


Never Told a Lie

by DisasterSoundtrack



Category: All Time Low (Band), Bandom
Genre: Angst, Bad Decisions, Infidelity, Jalex - Freeform, M/M, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-01-30 10:48:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 35,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12652086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DisasterSoundtrack/pseuds/DisasterSoundtrack
Summary: You're both someone else's second choice, and you both lack any sense of self-worth. Not exactly the most promising start to any relationship, is it?(In which Jack and Alex meet at group therapy for people involved in affairs.)





	1. A list of people to forget about

**Author's Note:**

> Secrets don't make friends  
> We make love, and love falls apart
> 
> [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/1168369167/playlist/4q8Vz86YcXLHmz0BUdo6kG) // [Youtube playlist with some extras](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLd8KGu5h5ZFPDwGLqc8-Y4T-syIl21RrO)

On his way there, Alex plays his favorite game.

He looks at the passing cars, trying to get a glimpse of the people behind the wheels and then imagines he was in their place. He makes up entire stories about where they’re headed, their purpose in life, what they do and who they love and somehow it all seems better than Alex’s own mess of a life.

_It’s okay. At least I’m trying._

The game quickly becomes boring, like most things do when you have a short attention span. The day is relatively warm in Baltimore in October, even though summer is long dead now and Alex is wearing a denim jacket. It’s nearing 6 PM when he arrives at his destination and the sun is setting, the orange shades making the world look almost beautiful, like an episode of Stranger Things.

Before opening the door and walking in, Alex checks his phone. There’s three new notifications from Youtube, a snap from Vic he ignores for now, and then a message from Tay.

 **Tay:** good luck, babe

The words make Alex’s heart sink for some reason. They definitely don’t put him in the right mood to do what he came here for, but they’re the only words of encouragement Alex is apparently going to get. He pushes the door and tries not to think about it too much anymore.

The people are gathering slowly, but steadily. Alex chooses a chair for himself, throws his jacket on it and goes to fix himself a cup of coffee. There’s no lactose-free milk, but beggars can’t be choosers, so he pours a good drop of regular milk into his paper cup, empties a packet of sugar into it and turns around just when someone who Alex assumes is the doctor closes the door and says “Welcome everybody, please take your seats and get comfortable. We’re about to start.”

Thirty seconds later everybody is in their chairs, the circle arrangement giving Alex a perfect opportunity to take a good look at the other people, but also making him painfully aware that everybody is staring at him. He is the new guy; the others must’ve known each other for a while now, Alex assumes. There's a dying whisper or two, a muffled laugh between two friends before the doctor speaks up.

“Alright, everybody, it’s October 5th today, thank you for showing up again. I can see Millie is missing, has anybody heard from her? No?”

“I think her daughter is performing in a school play tonight,” says a woman in her thirties, most likely, wearing a pink fluffy sweater and a set of expensive jewelry.

“Oh, alright, that’s a valid excuse. Next order of business, we have a new person with us.” The doctor smiles. He’s a short, wiry man with untamed hair and blindingly white teeth, his voice low and calming. He takes a short look at his clipboard before turning his eyes right to Alex. “Alex. Would you mind telling us a few words about yourself and why you’re here?”

“Like they do in AA in all the movies?” Alex asks.

A snicker goes around the circle, loosening Alex’s discomfort just a tiny bit and giving him some courage to speak up, even though his left foot is still tapping the floor in a fast, nervous rhythm.

“Yes, just like that,” says the doctor.

“Alright, so I’m Alex, I’m a staff manager at a local concert venue and I’m here because -” Why is Alex here? Who on Earth thought it was a good idea to come to group therapy in the first place? “I’m here because I’m a homewrecker.”

Another snicker, but this time it’s just from one person: a guy two seats left from the doctor, tall and dark-haired, with a distinct nose and scruff on his face, rips in his jeans and a leather jacket hanging off his chair. There’s a red streak in his hair and Alex can swear he’s seen him somewhere, before, but he can’t quite place it.

“Jack. That was out of line. We’re all here because we’re involved in affairs, aren’t we?”

The guy, _Jack_ , straightens himself in his chair. “We are, Doc. Sorry.”

“Apologize to Alex, not to me.”

Scolded like a teenager at school, Jack looks right at Alex, giving him a little nod. “Sorry, dude,” he says without conviction, a smile still dancing on his face, an air of playful arrogance.

Alex is a little angry and a little more intrigued. “It’s fine.”

“Glad we have that settled. Now, Alex, would you like to share your story? No pressure, but that could really help us all help you.” The doctor tilts his head to the left encouragingly, and what the hell, Alex decides he might as well do it.

There must be some point to coming here after all, even if it’s just telling all these strangers something they can maybe identify with. He’s one of the younger people in the group, him and Jack and a ginger girl with her hair in a long ponytail. The others are in their thirties up to their sixties, a mix of people from all different walks of life, all connected by the fact that they keep some horrible, dirty secrets about love; some of them cheaters, some of them cheated on, some of them the ones the cheaters cheat with, like Alex himself.

“Okay, so there’s this girl, right? I’ve met her in high school and we’ve always kind of danced around each other, but it never really worked out until we were way out of school. She liked to go out with me and have fun with me and basically enjoyed all the good stuff without all the crap that comes along with being in a relationship, like… like exclusivity and meeting the parents and serious plans for the future, and, yeah, I think I encouraged it and even enjoyed it for a while. But then, then she kind of went off and started seeing this other guy, became serious with him in no time and I was like, what is so bad about me that she couldn’t have all of that with me? So, long story short, now she’s married and has a two-year-old kid and the longest we’ve gone without seeing each other was three weeks when she went on her honeymoon.”

Alex takes a breath and looks around the circle, most people just nodding in compassion, staring at their own shoes and twiddling their thumbs, the pink sweater woman dabbing at her eyes with a tissue (“Seriously?” asks a man next to her, to which she shrugs and replies “What do you want from me, I’m sensitive.”) The only ones looking right at Alex are the doctor - Alex really needs to learn his name - and Jack, and while the doctor’s gaze is soft and compassionate, Jack’s just straight up burns.

“Okay, Alex. That’s enough for now. Thank you for sharing. Now we know what we’re working with. Anyone has any questions to Alex? Remember to keep it civil.”

Seven hands shoot up, and Alex, despite himself, becomes the star of the evening.

*

When they’re all done grilling him half an hour later, there’s time for all the others to share their news, thoughts or feelings. Adam’s daughter almost caught him with his lover last weekend, which sent him spiraling into self-hatred again. Esme is getting ready to tell her husband that she’s in love with a woman, Charelle’s sugar daddy gave her three thousand pounds “for textbooks” and she got herself a new iPhone (the pink sweater, Li, gives her a high five). Some people just say there’s nothing new to report about their lives and the doctor moves on, accepting it and giving them space.

“Jack? What about you?”

Jack didn’t contribute to Alex’s grilling. He did drop a comment here and there when the other people were speaking, mostly providing relief by joking and lightening the mood. Alex is, understandably, curious to see why Jack is actually here. He tries not to assume things in life in general, but he’s already assumed Jack is probably leading on two or even three unaware girls, convincing himself he’s not a bad guy because he’s attending therapy.

“Well, Rian threw a party. I even tried to stay sober for the entire thing, but.” Someone asks why, Jack just shrugs. “He didn’t as much as look at me for four hours before I finally went home and fucking went to bed. And then he showed up at mine the next day. Brought me a vinyl of my favorite band from when I was a teenager. Made me late for work. So. This is me. No progress as usual.”

Two people sitting next to Jack pat his back compassionately as he looks at his own knees.

“Let’s look at it differently. You might not have made progress, but you also did not regress.”

“Yeah, and we've established your Rian is a grade A asshole long ago,” says the ginger girl whose name Alex didn’t catch yet.

“Thanks, guys,” says Jack, clearly not comfortable with being the center of attention right now. “Can we move on from me now?”

*

Alex helps himself to a donut after the session is over. People approach him and shake his hand like it’s a tradition, like they're all a real community here and Alex is not sure how to feel about it. The doctor introduces himself too, “I’m Bernie Lewis, but call me Doc. I’m glad you came. I hope we can be of some use to you. Feels like you want to make things better, you just don’t know how.”

Alex wishes it was like that. He wishes he knew how to want anything for himself anymore.

The donuts ran out fast and everybody’s slowly leaving, so Alex grabs his jacket and decides to head out, too.

On his way to the door, somebody grabs Alex by the sleeve and pulls. It’s Jack, who somehow managed to snag the last strawberry-frosted donut.

“Hey. Alex, is it?” Jack extends a donut-free hand Alex’s way. “Didn’t say hi yet. I’m Jack.”

For a second, Alex dwells on feeling guilty for misjudging Jack, thinking he was a womanizing douchebag while, in reality, he was most likely just an accessory to some guy who wanted to have a perfect picket fence life and also a hot boy on the side.

Then the feeling gives way, and Alex is just left thinking that he definitely met Jack somewhere before, but still can’t decide where.

“Hi. Alex. It was a fun little meeting today, wasn’t it?” he says half-sarcastically, making Jack grin.

“Not my favorite. Definitely not enough drama. And they didn’t ask you the most important question.”

“The most important question?”

“Yeah. That girl of yours. Do you love her?”

Jack stuffs his face with the donut, moves swiftly past Alex and leaves.


	2. Fairweather lovers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for vomiting and panic attacks

Jack is throwing up into a toilet bowl.

He thought he was over this. He thought his body and his mind finally accepted the situation and that nothing else could trigger a downward spiral this strong, but he was wrong, apparently. He is never going to be over it. With both his hands, he holds onto the white porcelain bowl, ignoring intrusive thoughts of germs and various diseases he is just becoming intimately acquainted with.

Nothing feels real. There is absolutely nothing, nothing left.

Jack knows it’s not true. He knows it’s just a feeling and that it will go away, leaving him more rational, leaving him better. He knows, but he _feels_ otherwise, and feelings can’t really be reasoned with.

Another stupid show playing with Rian’s stupid band that Jack refuses to call his own. Another ordinary night, a round of beers afterwards and Jack was okay even with the fact that Cass was here, since Rian’s eyes were shining and he gave Jack his signature brilliant smile, looking straight at him while his arm was tightly wrapped around Cass’s waist.

A promise? A challenge?

Turns out it was neither, and Jack had to use 200% of his willpower not to black out there and then when Rian pulled out an engagement ring all of a sudden, dropped to one knee and presented the ring to Cass.

She cried. Everybody cheered, and Jack cheered along with them.

A minute later, he could hardly see anything but blackness, giving up on keeping up appearances as he stumbled into the venue bathroom.

“Jack? Jack, man, are you there?” Jack can hear Matt banging on the stall door. Matt knows. Rian got so pissed when he found out Matt knew he didn’t speak to Jack for two weeks.

He got over it, after Matt “knocked some sense into him”. Neither of them ever told Jack what exactly had happened.

“Jack. I can see your fucking shoes, alright? If you’re dying, let me know. I’ll call you an ambulance or whatever.”

Jack doesn’t say anything, ashamed of the bitter tears rolling down his face. He’s pissed at Rian, at the world, but mostly at himself.

“Jack. This is not funny,” Matt says to the closed door.

“I’m fine. Go away.”

“Look, man, I - I wanna help, okay? But you’re not making this easy, you just - you keep on doing these stupid things. What’s the point? Can’t you two just - I don’t know…”

“Fuck off, Flyzik. Please,” Jack moans, pleading, resting his forehead against the cool surface of the toilet bowl edge. He’s not even drunk. He’s just unfit to live in general.

“Fine. Whatever you say, just - I’m here if you need me, okay?”

“Okay, then can you, like, order me an Uber home? In ten minutes?”

“Sure thing. On it.”

Jack makes a noise in acknowledgement and Matt moves on, his footsteps echoing away.

It's an eerie feeling, being so alone.

Rian is so happy with her. Why wouldn’t he be? She’s so good, so funny and smart, so beautiful and she’s got a voice like an angel that is actually making her money. She is the promise of a life Rian wants, a life everybody else can only be jealous of. Jack can’t even be mad that he chose her.

The only thing Jack can be mad at is his stupid heart for ever choosing Rian in the first place.

 _I’m disappointing Doc Lewis so hard right now_ , Jack thinks before his body finally allows him to get up off the floor, wash his face and hands and catch that Uber Matt got him. He asks himself the same question he asked that new guy in therapy last week - _do you love him? Do you, after everything that happened, still love Rian?_

Making his way through the club, he sees Rian and Cass on the dance floor, swinging together to something cheesy, and it hurts him like it always did. Not more, not less.

Jack is not sure whether it hurts in the right way though.

*

There are rarely easy answers to the most difficult questions. The universe does not just provide them; you need to pull them out of your guts, it hurts a lot and sometimes it’s just not worth the trouble.

It’s a hectic day at work; they are short on staff since it’s apparently flu season and Alex is currently slaving over a shift schedule, trying to accommodate everyone’s needs, knowing some people will be disappointed anyway.

He needs a break. He needs 10 minutes to himself, some bleach for his eyes and mind. He scrolls through Instagram first, but everything seems bland and boring, so he goes to his Camera Roll.

He has a lot of photos with Tay that are socially acceptable: photos of them out at parties together, concerts, hanging out with the rest of their friends. Her husband knows Alex as Tay’s good friend from high school, so it’s not like Alex is a complete secret; he’s not a shadow, doesn’t have to pretend he’s not real. It’s just the actual nature of their relationship that needs to be kept under wraps. Alex swipes through the pictures from when they went to Warped Tour a couple years back; they both look exhausted, overheated, sunburnt and high. It's a good, warm memory.

And then there’s _these_ photos. Photos of the two of them kissing in front of the sunset that Tay didn’t want to take, afraid Alex would post them on Instagram (as if he was that stupid). Silly selfies filtered by Snapchat, dog ears and flower crowns or drag makeup. The two of them in bed back when she had a scene haircut and then just her, wrapped in bedsheets, or just in her underwear, or even without anything on, a quick shot from the bathroom sent at 2 in the morning with a short _Thinking of you_. Alex finds his favorite picture, an old one from before she even met Jordan: Alex is looking straight into the camera while Taylor is cuddled into him, smiling into Alex’s jacket. He can almost remember how happy he felt and how good it all was back then.

Back then.

Alex closes the intimidating folder of venomous memories; Tay hasn’t texted him since Monday, it’s Thursday now and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. For now, he tries to just forget it and focus on work.

Of course he fucking loves her. It might be a poisoned kind of love, but it’s love all the same, and Alex doesn’t know another kind.

*

Alex is running late for group therapy.

He had planned on taking a bus there, but first he was late for the bus, and then the next bus arrived late and didn’t quite stop at the correct bus stop, leaving Alex to run about half a mile, and he wasn’t exactly the fittest person out there.

The session has been going on for five minutes when he finally makes his way into the building, deciding to take the stairs instead of waiting for an elevator. In the badly lit stairwell, he trips and nearly falls to his death over somebody sitting on the floor between two flights of stairs. Alex stays upright only thanks to sheer willpower and takes a look at the figure on the floor, a man sitting with his head hidden between his knees. Alex can’t really see his face, but the red streak in his hair is pretty distinguishing.

Alex’s brain supplies him with a name. “Jack?”

Jack’s hands slide up from being wrapped around his ankles to his head, covering it from Alex, shielding it from the world. “No.”

Maybe Alex should just leave. He doesn’t even know the guy, he has no idea what is going on, but it doesn’t look like anything good. “Okay, should I - should I go?”

Expecting Jack to answer is a asking a lot judging by the state he’s in, but Alex waits anyway. The other man moves his hands down again, looks up at Alex and shakes his head slightly. The expression on his face is broken and terrified.

“Okay,” answers Alex carefully, deciding to just be a human being and help another person in need. He sits down next to Jack, careful not to invade his personal space, but close enough to make Jack feel reassured if that’s what he needs. “You wanna tell me what’s up or do you wanna just sit here in silence? Because that’s totally cool by me.” From up close, Alex can see that Jack is trembling. He can hear his irregular breathing as well.

Minutes pass without them saying anything. Alex places his hand on Jack's back just to test it, and the other man accepts the gesture. Jack stares at the flight of stairs leading up ahead of him, calming down slowly. Alex is just thinking, _what the fuck have I gotten myself into?_

“Fine. I’m fine now.” Jack says finally, his voice slightly shaky, and Alex breathes a sigh of relief. “Sorry you had to see it.” Jack climbs to his feet, dusting off his jeans and dark green cardigan and then extends a hand to help Alex up. “Come on. We can be fashionably late together and they’ll just think we had a quickie in the bathroom and not that I had another panic attack. S’all good.”

“I’ll definitely keep my mouth shut,” Alex says, accepting Jack’s helpful hand. It’s warm. Jack is tall, taller than Alex and despite his hair currently being a mess (perhaps from holding his head between his knees for an unknown period of time), he still looks good. Alex doesn’t know whether he hates it or not, but anyway, he’s glad Jack has calmed down relatively quickly.

“I don’t care. I’ll tell them anyway, everyone already knows I’m a wreck, so.”

They try to walk in as quietly as possible, but the door makes a horrible creaking noise, Esme stops talking and all the eyes turn to Jack and Alex.

“Hi.” Alex gives an awkward wave, feeling immensely uncomfortable under all the curious gazes. It's only his second time here and he's late already. Jack just marches to an empty chair, murmurs “Sorry for being late” and sits down. The only remaining free spot is right next to Jack, so Alex makes his way over there as fast as he can. Charelle leans to Jack over Alex, almost laying her entire body in Alex’s lap, the vanilla smell of her perfume attacking him.

She touches Jack’s knee and whispers theatrically, “Did y’all fuck?”

Jack laughs. “What the hell, Char,” he replies, totally not convincing anyone that he did not have sex with Alex.

Charelle leans back, Alex thankful that she’s no longer in his lap, and raises her hand, requesting the floor. Doc Lewis nods. “I want to raise an official complaint, okay. Why is Jack, out of all people, the one who gets to bang the new hottie in the group? I find it pretty unfair to be honest.” She crosses her arms over her chest to a chorus of groans and laughs. Doc Lewis takes a deep breath. “Maybe we should draw straws or something. Just saying.”

“ _Literally_ what the fuck, Char.” Jack looks like he’s about to burst out laughing. Alex thinks maybe he should just get up and leave right away; his face is burning. Then he thinks maybe he should say something, like _I don’t want any of you to bang me_ , but everyone in the group is currently yelling over each other, everybody trying to express an opinion at once.

Finally, Doc Lewis claps his hands loudly and everyone shuts up. “First of all, Charelle - out of line. Way out of line. Second of all - Alex? Jack? The group wants to know.”

“Seriously?” Esme, who was in the middle of talking when Jack and Alex arrived, cries out. “I did not even finish telling you about my last meeting with Miranda! Do you even want to hear the rest?”

Some _no’s_ and _not really’s_ can be heard as Esme mutters, “Thanks, guys, you’re really great.”

“No, Esme, of course we want to,” Doc reassures her. “The group just happens to think we have more pressing issues on our hands right now. So. Boys?”

Jack speaks up, saving Alex from his misery. “We did not fuck. Not like it’s any of your business, but. I had a panic attack and Alex found me and helped me through it.”

Silence falls around them, deep enough Alex can hear the AC working, all eyes focused on Jack now, only Esme still looking disappointed.

“A panic attack? Have you been getting a lot of those? I don’t think you ever mentioned it.” Doc Lewis flips through his chart, brow furrowed, searching for Jack’s file.

“Haven’t had them since high school, I think. They - they just came back this week.”

“Is there anything that could have triggered them?”

It feels like everybody, including Alex, holds their breath waiting for Jack to spill the reason.

“Oh yeah, definitely.” Jack smiles, but in a bitter way. “Rian got engaged.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did you guys like it? I hope the pieces are slowly falling into place and that you're enjoying the twists. 
> 
> Please let me know and let's talk!


	3. Late night electricity

It feels like falling, sort of, as overused as that metaphor is. Like the ground running from beneath your feet and like nothing will ever make sense anymore, like you won’t ever feel whole again, and if you don’t end up literally face down on the floor, you’re definitely there metaphorically. Then along comes the fear: fear of being left alone, fear of being a failure forever, just _fear,_ it’s dark and all-consuming, it leaves your blood cold and your heart racing, even if you don’t remember taking any drugs that night, and it renders you useless.

That’s panic. It’s scary, it’s paralyzing and it sucks.

Jack can feel ten different gazes resting on him, but they’re not waiting for him to describe what a panic attack is like. They’ve probably experienced it themselves, or seen one, or read about it; anyway they don’t care. They want an explanation. They want a reason behind the reaction, so Jack is going to give them one.

“Rian got engaged.”

He doesn’t look up, just keeps staring at his dirty white Converse on the floor. He can hear Li’s loud, exasperated sigh, Tom muttering “That fucker”, some whispers and when it all dies down, Charelle murmurs “I prefered it when I thought you were fucking the new guy.”

“Excuse me, I have a name.”

There’s a long pause before Doc says, “Do you wanna tell us more about it? Do you feel like you’re ready?”

“I don’t - there’s not really much to talk about. We were playing a show again, it was a rather small club, you know, since we’re shit, and then afterwards Rian suddenly decided to buy everyone a round of beers. He never does that because he’s rather tight with money, especially if it’s money spent on drinking for some reason, so we, I mean our band and the crew and our friends who came along, we were all surprised and suspicious, but fuck me, I thought it was going to be something good. I felt like we were vibing pretty well together that night, you know? Felt like something nice might happen that night. Even though Cass was there.” Jack stops to breathe, realizing his chest is immensely tight and that it hurts to keep talking. But he has to now. At least he doesn't have to speak loudly; the group is quiet enough you could hear a pin drop.

The group rarely hears dramatic stories of that caliber anymore, not unless someone new has to introduce themselves, so they’re all focusing all of their attention on Jack. He can see Allie literally on the edge of her seat, eyes wide open, biting her fingernails. There’s movement on his right and he remembers about Alex who’s currently fidgeting in his chair, throwing one leg over another.

“He said some bullshit about how this is a special night, and I’m telling you he was looking straight at me when he said that. Then he fucking pulled out an engagement ring for Cass and probably said some more bullshit that I didn’t get to hear, fortunately, because my ears started ringing and my vision went all wonky and I had to - well. I wanted to be alone.”

“Was that when the first panic attack happened?” asks Doc Lewis, although he probably already knows the answer. Jack just nods.

“That’s really all I have to say. It's been total shit, I don't think it's ever been that shit, but I’ve been - I’m trying my best to deal with it somehow.”

“We know you are, Jack.”

Nobody says anything for a while and Esme finally clears her throat, ready to move on, but someone interrupts her. “I went through something similar,” Alex says on Jack’s right and Jack looks his way, their gazes crossing for a second before Jack feels too pathetic to hold the eye contact. Alex is twisting his hands in his lap, one of his knees bouncing up and down nervously. Jack still can’t quite figure him out, doesn’t understand, doesn’t know why Alex has been stuck in such a hopeless relationship if he’s, apparently, smart, good-looking and, as it turned out today, a genuinely nice person. Jack wants to know though, so he listens carefully, trying to make sense of how Alex’s shitty “girlfriend” gets to keep someone so far from shitty. He almost feels inclined to agree with Charelle - maybe they should have drawn straws?

Hardly anything in life is fair.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but did you never confront that girl of yours about why she chose someone else over you? Because from what you’re saying, it seems like you two are peas in a pod. Meant to be.” Carla, who has been through three failed marriages with men who cheated on her, challenges Alex when he’s done recalling his girlfriend’s sudden engagement, and Jack already feels bad for him. “So you’re either lying and what you two have is not that perfect and sacred as you’re painting it to be, or the both of you are just plain stupid.”

“I don’t - I don’t know,” Alex replies quietly. Jack wants to say something; he owes it to Alex for his help today, but mostly he just _wants to_ tell him that this girl does not deserve him, that she never did.

Someone else beats Jack to the job though. Allie’s chewing gum almost falls out of her mouth when she hurries to reassure Alex. “She’s absolute shit,” she says in her heavy British accent. “You should buy yourself some self-esteem and realize that you’re better than her. Better than this thing you call a relationship.” Her ginger ponytail swings around her head as she gesticulates emotively. “Fuck that noise.”

The group seems inclined to agree.

“Yeah, she’s a garbage person.”

“Much like Jack’s Rian. Or Esme’s husband, for that matter.”

“Or Esme herself.”

“Oh shut up, Charelle. You never let me finish my story. So -”

Esme launches into another of her long tales and Jack looks to Alex, who seems overwhelmed, but not unhappy, like a light has turned on for him.

*

Talking to Allie feels strange. It brings up all the memories of growing up in the suburbs of London, all the girls Alex’s brother used to bring home that their mother didn’t approve of. They called them _chavs_ , Alex remembers, the word ringing in his head over and over, making him lose track of what Allie is saying to him.

“... you know what I’m saying?” she asks, and Alex takes a sip of his coffee. It’s too bitter, and in fact no, Alex doesn’t know what she’s saying. After the session, she immediately approached him and started spilling words of support at him, which was nice in the beginning, but then turned into a retelling of her entire life story.

Jack comes from behind and winks at Alex over Allie’s head, then gently grabs her by the shoulders and moves her aside, so that he can be the one standing in front of Alex.

“Oi, I was talking to the guy here,” Allie, not happy with the turn of events, shoves Jack in the chest. He just smiles at her.

“Too bad. Go file your complaint with Charelle, maybe you can draw straws together, but I already called dibs.” Jack turns his smile to Alex, and it’s kinda brilliant. Allie mutters something, swings her ponytail dangerously close to Jack’s face and walks away.

“I’m pretty sure you can’t call dibs on people, Jack.”

“Won’t stop me from trying though,” Jack says, still smiling. So flirting is his default mode. It’s okay, good to know, Alex is learning. He watches Jack reach for a napkin and then grab the last strawberry frosted donut, again. He catches Alex looking. “Oh, you want half? Always better if you’re not the only one with diabetes, right?”

“Sure, thanks.” Alex accepts one half of the donut, not really bothering with a napkin. He needs to kill the bitter taste of coffee quickly.

“Look, Alex, I - I wanted to thank you. For - before. It really helped, not being alone.” Jack is struggling to get the words out. “I owe you a beer. Or whatever is your poison of choice.”

“Don’t mention it,” Alex replies, even though he does like Jack mentioning it. It feels great to be validated.

“No, I want to. Are you doing anything tonight? Wanna grab a drink somewhere nearby?”

Alex weighs up the pros and cons. The pros are free beer, some fun and possibly making a new friend. The cons? He needs to be at work at 8 AM tomorrow. But it’s not his first rodeo.

“Sure. Lead the way.”

*

Alex has never been to that particular bar, but Jack apparently has, and more than once. He knows the bartender’s name; the guy gives him a bear hug and doesn’t even ask for Jack’s order, just Alex’s.

“Whatever Jack’s drinking, I guess. And it’s on him.”

“Excellent choice.” The bartender, Vinny, pours them both tall glasses of Stella Artois. “And congrats on finally bringing a good-looking date over here, Jackie. S’been a while,” he jokes, reaching over the bar to pat Jack on the back.

“Fuck off, Vinny. But also thanks,” Jack winks, grabbing his beer and looking around for an empty booth. “Open a tab for me, will you?”

They find a booth in the corner. The music is not too loud, so they can actually talk without screaming at each other. “So, spill the beans. How long have you been in the - you know -” Alex tries hard to finish the sentence without using the word _therapy._ “-group?”

“Oh. Four months, I think? Something like that. I think this particular group’s been formed two weeks before I joined.”

“So who’s the worst person there?” Alex rests his elbows on the table and his chin on both his hands, putting on his best listening face. He’s in the mood for some gossip. Jack giggles.

“Oh, definitely Adam. Hated the guy at the start. He’s your typical white dude. No offense,” Jack backtracks.

“None taken. Go on.”

“Doc Lewis always tell us to show sympathy and understanding, even for the cheaters, since we’re all only human and it takes two consenting adults to form an affair, and yeah, okay, I can get behind that. But there’s no sympathy for entitled assholes, you get me?”

Alex does, so he leans forward just a little more and gets lost in Jack’s stories.

*

After their third or fourth beer, Jack needs to go to the bathroom, but he’s sort of scared to leave Alex alone.

As it turns out, Alex is rather a lightweight. They haven’t even had that much to drink, but Alex did mention not having eaten a proper dinner today, so the alcohol must’ve gotten to his head pretty quickly. Finishing up their second beer, he decides to move to Jack’s side of the booth to “hear him better”. He is touchy, giggly and dangerously cute, so leaving him alone for literally three minutes is a really, really difficult challenge. Jack fully expects to find Alex either passed out or shoving his tongue down someone else’s throat upon his return.

“Be back in a sec, okay?” Jack finally removes Alex’s hand from his forearm where it’s clasped and stands up. Vinny gives him a knowing wink from the bar, but Jack just rolls his eyes.

“Better come back fast, cowboy, or I’ll drink all your beer,” says Alex, laying his head on the table as if he’s going to sleep. _There goes the night_ , Jack thinks, and somehow it’s still ten times better than any of the nights he had this month so far, and around a thousand times better than the night of Rian’s engagement. Actually, that’s his first thought involving Rian since they left the session.

When he comes back, Alex is still safe in the booth, but he’s staring at Jack with his mouth wide open in an expression of surprise, pointing at him with his finger.

“You!” he exclaims.

“Me? Yes, I’m the one who brought you here, remember? I’m Jack Barakat. We’ve met.”

“Yeah, no, I’m not drunk.” Jack raises an eyebrow, but lets it slide. “I mean I know you. I finally know where I know you from.”

“...group therapy?” Jack supplies, trying to be helpful. Yeah, this night is really over, going down in flames. Alex’s shocked face is hilarious, and somehow still cute.

“No! Today you said something about playing a gig with Rian’s stupid band! You’re a guitarist, right? Your band played my venue like a month ago. All Time - something.”

“Your venue?” What was Alex’s job again? Jack can’t recall. “What venue?”

“Ottobar! I’m a manager there! I saw you, and your band! You had different hair though.”

Alex seems way more excited about this than it’s worth, bouncing up and down and grabbing Jack by the forearm again when he slides into the booth.

“Shit, man. That’s, like, the coolest venue we’ve ever played, actually. Most excited we were about a hometown gig.” That’s a lie; Jack wasn’t that excited. It's Rian’s band, Rian’s and Zack’s and Matt's, and Jack just plays guitar in it. But that doesn’t really matter now, since the discovery opens up a whole new world of topics to talk about. Not only does it turn out they have some friends in common, they also share a pretty similar music taste and that’s making Alex light up even more than therapy gossip, so Jack buys another round and goes with it, giddy on the inside. When he’s by the bar, he asks Vinny for a secret shot of vodka just so he can catch up with Alex’s level of drunkenness; he doesn’t want Alex to be the only one making stupid decisions.

Slowly, he can feel the alcohol getting to him, too. That’s good. Not like he needs it to decide that Alex is ridiculously attractive with his golden brown hair, a rose tattoo on his hand, soft voice and every little emotion painted on his face and in the movements of his body. Jack uses his drunk dizziness as an excuse to play with Alex’s hair as they talk, the strands soft and curling around Jack’s fingers just right, and Alex grins through it all. It’s intoxicating as hell.

If he was sitting any closer, he would be in Jack’s lap.

Not like Jack would have anything against it in particular.

Jack’s phone on the table buzzes loudly, brutally pulling him out of the mood. It’s a text from Vinny.

 **Vinny:** time to take it to the bedroom, the boy’s all yours

Jack puts the phone down and looks to Alex, who is currently emptying another glass of beer. Their knees are pressed together and Alex’s arm is resting on the back of Jack’s seat. Suddenly, Jack remembers a million reasons why he can’t do what Vinny suggests. He remembers how both Alex and himself are in therapy for being reckless about love, how they tend to do stupid things and hurt themselves and how this is a very, very dangerous mix and the worst of all bad decisions.

Rian has Cass. Jack has nothing; he can’t even have a one night stand with the gorgeous boy from his support group.

“Come on, Alex. Let's bounce. I’ll see you home, okay?”

“So soon? Nooo,” Alex whines, trying to keep Jack seated by pulling him down, but Jack is less drunk, so he pulls Alex out of the booth gently, wraps an arm around his waist for balance and starts walking out, stopping by the bar to pay for all the drinks they’ve had.

“No comments, I’m begging you,” he says to Vinny as he swipes his credit card and his friend nods, keeping his mouth shut.

The cool air outside hits Jack in a pleasant way. Alex is standing up by himself already, rubbing his eyes hard and then blinking intensively.

“I need, like, a bottle of water or whatever.”

“There’s a 7-Eleven round the corner, you wanna walk there?”

Alex claims to be fine and almost not drunk at all, but when they get their bottles of water, he drains his in literal seconds.

It’s the middle of the week and they’re nowhere near the city center, so the streets are almost empty. It’s nearing 1 AM already and Jack wonders where the time has gone. But then he looks at Alex walking by his side, fully focused on balancing his empty water bottle on his open palm, and he knows all the answers.

“Ow,” exclaims Alex when the bottle inevitably falls to the ground. He stops to pick it up and throw it in the trash, losing balance slightly and walking into Jack. “Ow again. Sorry.” He's flush against Jack's chest for a second, so close, looking at Jack with a fond smile.

“It’s no problem, dude.” Jack is feeling a mixture of amusement, embarrassment and fondness. He remembers the text he got from Vinny and decides to push _these_ thoughts away.

They wait for Alex’s Uber, sitting on an empty bus bench together underneath the streetlights. Alex leans his head against Jack’s shoulder and keeps on humming different songs; they’re all perfectly in tune and Jack recognizes each and every one of them.

When the car finally arrives, it’s the most disappointing moment of the night.

“Are you okay to go by yourself?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I’m good,” Alex answers, standing up from the bench and taking a couple almost-steady steps towards the car. “But I’d still rather you go with me,” he adds in a much gentler voice.

Jack’s heart skips a beat. It’s so, so unfair.

“It’s a bad idea. I’m afraid I’d start jerking you off there and then,” says Jack, trying to lighten the mood that suddenly turned heavy.

“Well, it’s not like I’d complain.” Alex makes a move like he’s going to grab Jack by the lapels of his jacket, but decides against it. He’s not smiling, he’s looking at Jack in all seriousness but it’s a moment lost in time because Alex has to finally go in the car. “Thanks, man. I had fun. A repeat soon?”

“Definitely. See you next week.” By next week, Jack needs to figure out a way to somehow get rid of his conscience.

Alex shuts the car door and Jack turns around, ready to walk away, when his entire body recoils. _No._ He cannot do this. This is not okay. He can hear the engine of Alex’s Uber starting and he makes his way back towards the car as fast as he can, knocking on the window on the passenger’s side like a crazy person. The driver rolls the window down and gives him a dirty look, or maybe he’s just tired.

“I can’t let him go alone, sorry,” Jack gestures towards Alex in the backseat. “He’s drunk and it’s not safe.”

When Jack climbs into the passenger’s seat, Alex just grins at him.

They ride through the city without speaking, and Jack is keeping his hands to himself, thinking of all his mistakes, past and present. The driver plays bad country music from his stereo and Alex falls asleep with his head on Jack’s shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is going to happen? Theories in the comments!
> 
> Talking to you is my favorite thing, so please drop me a line so that I know you're still here. Love you!


	4. Green

When Jack’s alarm goes off, he opens his eyes in a very unfamiliar place.

It’s not the first time it happens, so he knows the drill.

He fishes his phone out from the back pocket of his jeans. His jeans are on: alright. That’s the first good sign. Actually, he’s fully dressed, with his green cardigan serving as a blanket. His jacket is also there, the wallet and keys present and Jack sighs with relief, looking around the place he woke up in. He’s been sleeping on a couch in a tiny living room, twice as neat as his own apartment, a dying plant decorating the counter in an open kitchen, shelves framing the window on both sides lined with records. It’s a nice little apartment and the morning light is already flooding the place in.

Jack feels as if he bought something new and shiny yesterday, didn’t have enough time to play with it yet but just woke up in a world when this thing still belongs to him.

What is the thing? Jack’s hazy morning brain refuses to tell him.

He stands up, slowly, and gets a good view of an adjacent bedroom, less neat than the kitchen and the living room; the doors are open and someone is tangled in the messed up sheets, only half-covered and also fully dressed.

Alex. Alex from therapy. Alex is the new shiny thing in Jack’s life.

It’s almost 8 AM and Jack has no way of telling whether Alex should be up or not. Is he supposed to be going to work? He didn’t mention anything last night, or Jack doesn’t remember. He can either leg it and forget that he was ever here, counting that Alex will assume Jack put him to bed and then went home, or he can be decent and wake him up to make sure Alex is not missing something important.

“Alex.” Jack grabs Alex’s shin that’s sticking out from beneath the covers and shakes him slightly. “Aleeeex. Alex. Get up.”

Alex springs up so fast and violently he must’ve gotten dizzy. His eyes snap open wide and he looks around in fear before he focuses on Jack. “Wha - what?”

Alex looks absolutely panicked, his hair is all over the place and he’s clutching a blanket against his chest as if in defense. In a perfect world, Jack could crawl under the blanket with him, not in a hurry anywhere, and go for a nap together first, then maybe have other kinds of fun you can stay in bed for. He can bet Alex is warm like a heater and soft like a pillow; he remembers all too well his tipsy behavior at the bar last night. He can already hear all the little noises Alex would make.

“Morning, sunshine boy. It’s 8 AM, I was wondering if -”

“Fuck. Fuck fuck _fuck_.” Alex throws away the sheets, jumping off the bed and immediately going into speed run mode; he’s so fast Jack’s gaze can hardly follow him. He takes off his t-shirt from last night, lets it fall to the floor and puts on a clean one so quick Jack gets nothing but a glimpse of his bare flesh. Ten seconds later he shuts the bathroom door behind himself and starts yelling.

“I need to be at work _ten minutes ago_ , Jack! Can you please get me a cab or something?”

“On it!” Jack starts putting on his shoes, seeing as Alex does not fuck around.

“Thanks! I don’t have time to deal with the subway today,” Alex replies, his voice muffled by a mouthful of toothpaste, probably.

“Your carriage will be downstairs in 3 minutes, sir,” jokes Jack, bowing with a flourish when Alex leaves the bathroom, wearing different clothes and with his hair slightly tamed.

“Thanks. Thanks so much, Jack. Now let’s go, okay?” He makes a stop by the fridge and grabs two bottles of water, handing one to Jack. “I’m sorry. I don’t normally treat my guests like that, but we have a crazy schedule at work this week and I can’t be late. Oh my God. I think I’m dying. Can you die of a hangover?”

“I’m pretty sure you can’t. Unless you, like, dehydrate?”

They’re sitting in the back of a silver Prius five minutes later and Alex leans his head back on the headrest. Jack’s thinking about how he really, really needs to pee. He’s happy to find a packet of mint chewing gum in his pocket; not being able to brush your teeth in the morning is never fun.

It seems like neither of them knows what to say. Jack decides not to say anything, and Alex decides to sigh loudly.

“No worries, man, you should be there in like, what, 10 minutes? I can just take the subway from there.”

“I know. Sorry I’m a mess,” Alex explains. “So are you not working today or-”

“Nah, I am. I work in a movie theatre. I start at 2 PM today, so. Not in a hurry.”

“Oh, cool. Which movie theatre?”

“Landmark Harbor. So you can hit me up if you ever wanna get in on employee discount. Or just eat some free popcorn if that floats your boat.”

The car gets stuck in slight traffic and when it doesn’t move for three minutes, Alex’s leg starts bouncing up and down nervously. If there’s one thing that always unsettles Jack, it’s other people visibly showing their stress, so he places a hand on Alex’s knee decisively.

“Don’t.”

Alex’s gaze fleets from Jack’s hand, that Jack just keeps there, to Jack’s face. “Look, Jack. About last night.”

“What about it?” Jack wants to ask so many questions, but most importantly he wants to know whether Alex remembers anything that happened. _The basis of every healthy relationship should be honesty_ ; the voice in Jack’s head says, sounding exactly like Doc Lewis. So he decides to just ask. “Do you even remember anything?”

A ghost of a smirk dances on Alex’s lips, or maybe Jack is just imagining things. “Oh yeah, dude. I remember everything. That’s my blessing and my curse, I can be the drunkest person in the vicinity and the next day I’ll still remember exactly everything that happened. So. Sorry if anything I did was, you know, _out of line_.” The smirk blooms into a full-blown grin and warmth spreads over Jack’s entire body. So Alex does remember being all over Jack, their legs tangling together at one point, Jack running his fingers through Alex’s hair and Alex knocking into Jack on the street. He remembers sleeping in Jack’s lap in their Uber and sloppily trying to keep Jack in bed when he was putting a blanket over Alex.

“No offense taken whatsoever. Wanna exchange numbers or whatever in case you wanna, I don’t know, hang out again? Or give me backstage passes to the coolest gigs you host at Otto?”

“Holy shit, you’re needy,” Alex laughs, but unlocks his phone anyway and they exchange contact info as the car finally moves forward.

They’re by Ottobar at 8:40, so it’s not like Alex is tragically late. They’re on the sidewalk in front of the building and Jack knows Alex really has to run; his body language makes it very clear, so Jack has to hurry. “I still mean everything I said last night,” Jack throws in as a goodbye, causing Alex to frown.

“Everything? What do you mean?”

“I mean everything.”

“Okay,” Alex replies, holding Jack’s gaze, standing so close and it’s a spur of the moment decision for Jack, something like second nature to close his fingers on Alex’s arm and pull him in, pressing their lips together.

It takes exactly half a second for the alarm in Jack’s head to warn him that he’s making a giant mistake. But it also takes exactly half a second for Alex to walk a step closer, press his body against Jack’s, place a hand on his hip and properly kiss back, so Jack throws caution to the wind and goes with it. He’s so thankful for the existence of chewing gum.

Alex is intoxicating and sweet, tastes like minty toothpaste and gives Jack headrush while still keeping things on the edge of innocence until it’s all over 15 seconds later. “See you soon, okay? You have my number.” Alex waves and runs, disappearing behind the building and if Jack felt stupid before, he’s feeling absolutely, irrevocably dumb and confused now.

*

She’s sitting on Alex’s doormat when he comes back from work, huge headphones on, scrolling through her phone. She looks almost exactly like the 16-year-old girl Alex met all those years ago, although with much nicer hair, but, unfortunately, she’s not her anymore and nothing can change that.

The choices she made along the way formed her into the person she is today, and she’s confused, impulse-driven, and, if Alex were to say it like it is, not a very good person.

Alex waves at her before he approaches his apartment door and she pulls off the headphones, smiling at him widely. To be honest, Alex has no idea what she’s doing here. She ignored his messages for the past couple of days, so Alex just stopped texting her.

“Tay. Why are you here?”

“That’s how you’re telling me hello? I missed my favorite boy is all,” she replies, standing up and going for a kiss. For some reason, Alex is not feeling it, so he kisses her on the cheek instead.

Taylor doesn’t seem to notice the change, waiting for Alex to open his apartment, placing a hand in the back pocket of his jeans. She smells of strawberry body mist, the one Alex got her, the one she can always lie about and tell her husband she bought for herself, like everything Alex has ever given her.

Alex is not sure why these things are suddenly irritating him. He brought some Chinese takeout, but just enough for himself, and when he’s by the kitchen counter trying to divide it between two people, Tay carefully looking on, Alex realizes he hasn’t seen her since he started going to group therapy.

“How’s therapy going?” she asks, as if on cue. Alex freezes for a second before he remembers he told her he enrolled in an anxiety support group. A white lie to protect himself, but still a lie, and it makes Alex feel like a piece of shit even more than usual.

“It’s fine. I’ve only been twice so far, you know. But it’s okay,” Alex answers, rummaging his kitchen drawers for an extra pair of chopsticks.

“How does it even look like? Is it anything like in the movies?”

“Well.” Alex finally finds some chopsticks and serves Taylor half of his meal. She digs into it immediately. “Kinda, yeah. We sit in a circle and everybody tells their stories from the past week. Then the rest of the people give advice, or share their own related experience.”

“Alright.” Taylor makes her way to the couch and kicks her feet back on Alex’s coffee table while Alex remains by the kitchen counter and starts eating. He’s hungry and exhausted after work. “Do they say anything interesting? Anything - wait, what the fuck is this?” She pulls something out from underneath her, an item of clothing Alex doesn’t quite recognize for a second, until he does and the food gets stuck in his throat in a flash of ice cold fear.

It’s a dark green cardigan.

“What is it, Alex?”

“It’s - it’s a sweater, Tay.” He tries to laugh it off, but she’s examining it closely now. “I got a new sweater. You don’t like it?”

“Oh, come on, stop.” Taylor sinks her entire face into the material. “It’s a cardigan, Alex. You wouldn’t be caught dead in it. And it smells - it smells like someone else. Like another _man_ , Alex.” Somehow, she makes it sound like an accusation, and Alex understands it’s because it _is_ an accusation.

“Okay, so a friend left it behind last night.” Alex shrugs, stuffing some more rice and chicken in his mouth. It’s hopeless. He knows that Taylor, as possessive as she is, won’t drop it. She puts away her untouched plate of food and sits up straight, boring her eyes in Alex.

“A friend. What friend?”

Alex remembers Jack’s big, gentle hands holding him up when he had trouble walking upstairs. He remembers Jack putting him to bed, carefully taking off Alex’s shoes and jacket and pulling a blanket over him, stroking his hair before he left to sleep on the couch. He remembers Jack in the morning, casually dragging him in for a kiss that was the crowning moment of everything good and awesome, lighting up a whole new kind of fire in Alex’s belly.

_A friend. Yeah, right._

“Just a friend, okay? One of Vic’s. I can’t recall the name.” Alex lies, smooth and unwavered, but he knows she’s not buying it.

“If it was a friend, you would have told me when I asked in the first place!”

Alex does not reply. He doesn’t have an answer for Taylor, not one she would like, he only has ones that will hurt her. He doesn’t want to say Jack’s name out loud; it would feel like revealing a secret that’s too precious and too fragile and -

“Are you seeing someone else?”

A beat. Alex can hear a bus pulling up outside, the doors opening to let people in and out. A microwave beeps in his neighbors’ apartment.

“If I was, would you have an issue with that?”

Tay raises her hands and rakes them through her hair. “I - I can’t with you, Alex. I just - I can’t.”

Trying to remain calm while she’s visibly losing it, Alex takes another mouthful of his food. He chews it thoroughly. He swallows. “Don’t you think it would be kinda hypocritical of you to act all offended if I was sleeping with somebody else? I’m not saying that I am. Just asking theoretically.”

Taylor abandons the couch completely, walking up to Alex’s kitchen counter and leaning on it, getting in Alex’s face. “Why did I even come here? Trying to be nice and lovely and caring? And this is how you pay me back?”

Alex doesn’t react, so she keeps going.

“I’m gonna go now, alright? And I’m not gonna show up uninvited again. Just in case, because I don’t wanna find any more items of clothing, that clearly don’t belong to you, lying around in your apartment.” She taps her nails on the countertop. It has never cost Alex this much to seem calm, but he needs to see this through. “Unless you wanna fuck. Then maybe I can stay,” Taylor says in a much different tone, suddenly seductive. This is the part where Alex usually fails and falls into her trap headfirst. “I think it will do us good to let off some steam.”

She has a point; that’s what they usually do after a disagreement or an unpleasant experience in general. But he has to be strong. In his mind’s eye he can see Allie, whipping her ponytail and telling him to buy some self-esteem.

“No.”

“Are you sure? Because I’m leaving. I’m going.” Tay is actually by the door already, opening it, then she’s halfway out. “Last chance.”

“Goodnight, Tay,” says Alex, his throat letting the words out with difficulty. He’s imagining how he’ll tell this story to the group next week and maybe even get a round of applause. He can almost hear all the excited voices and see the encouraging smiles, and that helps him speak up. “Please call next time.”

“Goodnight, Alex.” Taylor slams the door on her way out.

Alex lets out a labored breath and closes his eyes, counting down from ten before he opens them. Afterwards, he finishes his dinner, Taylor’s untouched helping included.

*

“Hey, are you free after work tonight?”

Jack picks up the call in the employee bathroom at work. Rian sounds careless and happy, slightly out of breath, and Jack knows exactly what he’s about to offer, because he always sounds like that when he’s about to offer him sloppy seconds.

“I’m not off until 11,” he answers, hoping maybe Rian declines, says it’s too late, says there’s no way he can make up an excuse for leaving home that late. Rian is engaged and supposed to be living in eternal bliss, not falling into bad habits of fucking his friends. Jack is not the relationship police, but he knows he’s right this time.

Jack really wants it to stop. Sometimes Jack thinks he’d really like everything to stop, but then again, that’s actually called death.

“Midnight at your place then? We’ll make it quick.”

“I don’t know, Rian, isn’t that kind of stupid?” Jack scratches his neck. He needs to go back to work. He really doesn’t want to do all of this.

Somehow, he finds himself unable to say no.

“When have we ever been smart? Look, man, don’t get all drama queen on me again. I’ll be there at midnight sharp. I’ll bring you wine or whatever, if you want.”

“No. Don’t -” _Just say ‘No, don’t come’. It’s literally three simple words_. “Don’t bring anything.”

*

Rian arrives two minutes before midnight, and leaves exactly twenty two minutes past. _At least he didn’t bring anything this time_ , Jack thinks, wrapping his naked body in a grey blanket he uses to cover his bed during the day, looking around at his bedroom cluttered with various useless gifts from Rian.

 _Useless. The only thing he likes wasting his money on - buying my time._ Jack heads to the kitchen, his feet tangling in his own clothes strewn all over the floor everywhere, and finds a bottle of red wine Rian brought a week ago, or maybe two, it doesn’t matter. Jack opens it and heads back to his bedroom, deciding to sit on his wide windowsill, the blanket serving to protect his entire body from the chilly air of the room.

This is how it ends most of the time. Alone. Staring at the city streets below, bursting in lights and colors and so, so alive, and Jack feeling so detached from everything else, his loneliness and pain like anchors, like the only thing that’s real. Whenever he feels any different, his subconscious convinces him that it’s fake, and even if it’s not, it will only be real for a second.

He keeps collecting the seconds, hoping maybe one day they will fall into place like a jigsaw.

It’s been years, and they never do.

Jack takes a long swig from the bottle, knowing it won’t soothe him anyway. Rian is probably halfway home already, thinking about another lie to spin for Cass, maybe running the entire way to cover the smell of sex and Jack in his own sweat. That seems to have worked for him so far, and it’s really unfair, but Rian is in the clear. He’s convinced he’s not doing anything wrong, he’s just living his life to the fullest, like all the young, beautiful, horny and stupid people do.

The window gets misty from Jack’s breath, so he starts mindlessly drawing with his fingers. He draws a face, eyes and a nose and a straight line of mouth, starting on the hair before the mist disappears completely.

Five months ago, he told Rian he was in love with him. Maybe the sex was particularly good that night, maybe Jack was feeling vulnerable, but something convinced him it was the right thing to do and that he couldn’t possibly go forward without doing it. They were eating pizza, Rian was talking about something else, about their upcoming show or the demos they’ve recorded and Jack just blurted out, “I’m in love with you.”

He really wished he wasn’t. There was nothing else in the world he wished for more, but he was in love with Rian and Rian needed to know.

“I’m - I’m sorry, what?”

“I’m in love with you. How long have we been sleeping together now, two years? More? I’ve been in love with you ever since. Or maybe longer.”

Rian put down the slice of pizza he was about to bite into and just looked at Jack, expressionless, like his soul has left his body. “Jesus Christ, Jack,” he muttered finally, standing up and launching into a tirade of how Jack is in violation of every rule that comes with being fuck buddies, how he’s being a drama queen and how they’re going to forget all about it and never touch upon the subject again. “I care about you, alright? So I don’t want you saying things like that again. I don’t want you to hurt yourself this way.”

Jack takes another swig of his wine. Maybe Rian was right after all. Maybe Jack is the only one to blame for continuously doing this to himself. Maybe, by some miracle, there’s still a sliver of chance for him to come back to the world of the living.

Before the illusion fades, Jack jumps off the windowsill, his blanket cape falling to the floor in the process, and launches a desperate search of his phone. It’s there, in the pocket of his jeans abandoned by his bedroom door.

With his heart pounding for no reason (Jack hopes it’s not another panic attack coming like a freight train), he types a quick sentence, sends it, locks the phone and falls face down into his bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #cliffhanger
> 
> Who did Jack text? What did he write? Theories in the comments!
> 
> Please report back if you enjoyed the chapter! Love you all!


	5. What cowards do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw The Voice

Alex is in bed, has been for nearly two hours now, eaten alive by insomnia. It seems to pop up whenever he’s feeling particularly bad, and tonight’s encounter with Taylor has left him feeling, for lack of a better word, quite shitty; shitty enough to sit on the shower floor for half an hour, expecting the water to somehow wash away the horrible feeling. Newsflash: it didn’t.

He tried crying it out, and it helped for a while, but still didn’t put him to sleep, so he’s thinking about the neat little bottle of sleeping pills he’s got in his bedside drawer; pills that he hasn’t taken in weeks. Briefly, he’s also thinking about reaching out to someone, but he really doesn’t want to bother any of his friends or, even worse, his parents, with something so trivial. It’s not like they can do much to help him anyway, right?

He’s almost made his mind up about the pills.

When a light suddenly shines in Alex’s darkness, it’s the light of his phone, informing him of a new text message.

 **Jack:** so my day went completely downhill since I saw you off at work. hope you're doing well at least

Alex raises his head from the pillow, leaning on his elbow, a smile tugging at his lips. Those 30 or 40 minutes spent with Jack in the morning were the highest point of his day as well. It felt good to be in the presence of someone who understood, someone who didn’t expect anything from you.

Alex types a short, quick reply.

 **Alex:** Not really. Same here.

The next message arrives less than 30 seconds later.

 **Jack:** sorry :( I think I desperately need something fun to do tomorrow. you in?

 **Alex:** Can’t do tomorrow, working night. Can’t do Sunday either. Will Monday work?

With his heart in his throat, pounding, Alex waits for an answer. Luckily, he doesn’t have to wait for long.

 **Jack:** if you wanna do Monday you’re gonna have to watch The Voice with me. nobody ever wants to

 **Alex:** Are you kidding me? It’s one of the greatest treasures of modern pop culture.

 **Jack:** I know right. looking forward to Monday then! :)

 **Alex:** Should I bring anything in particular?

 **Jack:** just your gorgeous self and maybe your fav snacks

 _Just your gorgeous self_. Luckily, there’s nobody around to see the blush that quickly floods Alex’s face and neck when he reads these words. Seeing them convinces him he made the right decision kissing Jack back this morning; even if he’s betting on a wild card, it’s better than betting on any of the other cards he’s got in hand. Or whatever; Alex is not great with card metaphors.

 **Alex:** Is it a Netflix and chill scenario or?

 **Jack:** it’s whatever you want it to be, dude

Jack texts him his address in the next message, and then another follows.

 **Jack:** goodnight. don’t make me quadruple-text you man

 **Alex:** Goodnight. And thanks!

Alex opens his bedside drawer, finds the bottle, swallows one pill dry and waits for sleep to come.

*

Alex rings the doorbell, exactly ten minutes late, not knowing what to expect, trying not to give in to his nerves completely. The door opens immediately, Jack in his signature ripped jeans and a black, short-sleeved shirt, an actual shirt, putting Alex’s silly white v-neck to shame. Jack does clean up nicely. He smiles upon seeing Alex and the blackness of the shirt doesn’t seem to be draining the warm tones from his skin; that’s the first time Alex wonders about Jack’s ethnicity.

“You’re late,” Jack says as way of hello, moving aside to let Alex in, still grinning. Briefly, Alex thinks about how they’re going to greet each other. What would even be appropriate? Last time they saw each other, they made out, but somehow Alex is convinced this won’t be met with Jack’s approval now. A handshake seems too impersonal, a hug - too awkward, a kiss on the cheek too European. Luckily, Jack doesn’t seem to be going for any kind of a greeting at all, since he locks the door behind Alex and moves deeper into the apartment. “Make yourself at home!”

“You left something at mine the other night,” Alex says when they get to the kitchen and stop for a second.

“Huh? What?” Jack seems surprised.

Without saying anything, Alex pulls out Jack’s green cardigan from the tote bag he used to carry snacks. The sweater that made Taylor snap and got Alex in trouble, but Jack doesn’t have to know; it wasn’t his fault.

“Oh, that! Thanks. I’m not that great at keeping track of where things are.”

The place seems like it’s been tidied rather chaotically; Alex feels like if he opens any cupboard, an avalanche of stuff will fall on him, resulting in grave injuries. But on the surface everything’s just fine, no dirty dishes in the kitchen where Alex is told to place his chips in the bowl, no stray sex toys in the living room where they sit down on the couch together, no space between them, their legs pressed to each other. The show is already on, since Alex was late, some girl singing a bad rendition of _Chained To The Rhythm_ , and Jack doesn’t try to engage in small talk, just glues his eyes to the screen.

“I’m not caught up on this season, who are we rooting for?” Alex asks when the girl is done, the judges are done with her and the camera moves backstage to talk to the singer’s family.

Jack’s face lights up with actual passion as he gives Alex a quick rundown through every contestant still in the competition, and Alex can only listen, nod and smile, sometimes interjecting with questions, feeling pleasant warmth spreading in his veins and not understanding why he was nervous about today in the first place. In what seems like a conscious, gradual process, Jack leans more and more into Alex, his hand casually ending up on Alex’s knee even before the next contestant starts their performance.

“Not a believer in personal space, I take it,” Alex half-jokes, desire putting his body in alert mode.

Jack is dark eyes, dark eyebrows, dark scruff and there’s something dark in the way he curls his lips at Alex’s comment. “Not a believer in _your_ personal space, no.”

Before Alex can retort, mention that it’s rude and inappropriate to say something like that, Jack shifts a little to look at the screen again. “Okay, quiet now, this is my fave that I told you about.”

While they continue watching, Jack’s hand wanders from Alex’s knee, slowly up. It’s so begrudgingly slow Alex is forced to hold his breath and watch the hand closely. Jack seems fully focused on the show, but the hand is still moving ever so slightly and Alex is ready to snap.

They’re not fucking teenagers anymore. They haven’t been for a while now, even if Alex feels like it, and wishes that was the case.

“Jesus Christ, Jack,” he finally exclaims, startling Jack, making him drop a Dorito halfway to his mouth and tear his eyes away from the screen to look at Alex. “You know we can’t, right?”

Jack’s face falls, but he promptly removes the hand from Alex’s thigh. “I know. I know. It’s just that, like, I can’t be the only one here who _wants to_ , you feel me?”

Alex knows exactly what Jack means, and that’s what’s making things so complicated. They’re both supposed to be getting better, not worse, and definitely not involved in another undefined sexual/emotional relation that will only leave them more confused, but it’s just so hard when you vibe that well with someone.

The universe just made a cruel joke on their expense, letting them meet in a very unfortunate time. Someone up there must be having a nice little giggle, or maybe rather a laugh riot, watching them struggle.

“Of course I want to. Hell, I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I want to ever since we kissed in front of my bar, but it makes no sense, I’ve known you for a brief moment and I can’t throw away the progress I’ve made, and especially the progress you’ve made, for - this. Whatever this is.” Alex feels relieved that he managed to say all of this, even if every cell in his body disagrees with these words.

_Progress, not perfection._

“I know. And you’re right. Why do you have to be so smart, Alex?” Jack sighs, burying his face in Alex’s hair for a second, his hands on Alex’s arms, touching the skin. This is going to be Alex’s demise. “I just wanted to be irresponsible with you for a while. A little inappropriate,” Jack says against the skin of Alex’s neck, giving him goosebumps everywhere.

“Look at you with all those long, difficult words,” Alex jokes, his head spinning from the smell and feel of Jack so dangerously close to him. Maybe they should just get back to watching The Voice. Maybe Alex should go home, or maybe they should get drunk on wine and have steamy sex after all and don’t regret for a second. Alex desperately wants Jack to convince him, to say something that will make it all okay, so that Alex doesn’t have to keep thinking how they’re actually no better than Taylor or Rian.

“Stop it.” Jack’s lips finally touch the skin of Alex’s neck and then Alex can feel teeth sinking in, pleasure and pain mixing as he grabs onto Jack’s forearms and breathes in a notch too loudly. He did not expect _that._ It’s not long before Jack lets go, dropping a gentle kiss to the place where he left his bite mark. Alex looks into his eyes, a silent question of _what are we doing, are we really doing this, please let’s do this_ , but Jack moves a couple inches away from Alex so that their bodies aren’t touching anywhere, picks up the Dorito chip that fell and goes back to watching The Voice. “Do you wanna stay for the rest of the episode? Hands to myself and all that.”

Alex stays for the rest of the episode and then some more, him and Jack talking about music and listening to records while eating chips. The bite mark on his Alex's neck keeps burning like fire, waves of electricity still running through his body, making him feel on edge and leaving him unsatisfied.

*

At the next group meeting, Alex goes completely off the rocker.

When his time to talk comes (after they’ve all contributed to a passionate discussion about Adam and the way he’s handling his ongoing affair), Alex stops bouncing his knee up and down like a crazy person, takes a deep breath and just starts telling them _everything_.

“I kinda started seeing someone new,” Alex begins, picking up Jack’s attention immediately. Jack looks straight at him, thinking maybe he can somehow non-verbally communicate how bad of an idea this is, but Alex refuses to look at him, refuses to look at anyone, very interested in a cracked tile next to his right foot. “We went out for drinks together for the first time last week and, well, I got sort of drunk. He wasn’t drunk, or at least not as drunk as I was.”

“Wait, _he_?” Millie is the only person to express confusion at the male pronoun, but a couple of other people are frowning, too. Jack wants to hide his face in his hands, but that would be too obvious, too revealing.

“Yes, Millie, _he_. Bisexuals are actual people that exists among us, you know. Even if the mass media tries to convince you otherwise.”

“Alright, alright. Sorry. You just never told us.”

“To be fair, Alex, you didn’t,” interjects Doc Lewis. “Our surprise is a perfectly valid reaction.”

“Okay, alright. It’s fine, I’m telling you now. Anyway, we had fun, but kept it all politically correct and since I was - not sober, he was kind enough to ride to my place with me and put me to bed. No funky stuff,” Alex raises a finger, looking around the circle. Tom and Allie giggle wildly. “No, really. He took my shoes off and put a blanket over me and went to sleep on the couch. In the morning we took a cab to the city center together and made out a little in front of my workplace and everything was perfectly fine. I was,” Alex hesitates and Jack’s heart significantly picks up speed, “I was happy. It was something good. Until I started actually thinking about it.”

“What do you mean?” asks Doc.

Jack is also very curious to find out what Alex means. What happened between their amazing, careless kiss and their screening of The Voice, when Alex clearly stated that nothing can occur between them? Was it something he did? Was it -

“Taylor came over that same day, in the evening. She found - she found an item of clothing. A sweater, to be exact, that belonged to the guy. And she flipped out. She became - possessive. Territorial, even. Started a fight and wanted to settle it with sex. I - I didn’t go for it and told her to leave.”

A chorus of approval goes around the circle. Jack feels ready to leap out of his chair, run and never come back. If this is another panic attack coming, he’s totally screwed. So the stupid cardigan made Alex’s stupid girlfriend flip? Good. Maybe that was what she needed, what Alex needed, what they _all_ needed.

“Wait though, a sweater?” asks Allie, leaning forward. “How would a sweater be proof that you’re doing anything shady? Could be a friend’s. Could be yours, even.”

Alex chuckles bitterly. “It smelled like another man, and she knew. I couldn’t keep lying. Told her she was a hypocrite and all that. But - am I not the hypocrite here?”

The fear that Alex's retelling of their story sparked in Jack turns into anger which he's not sure where to direct.

“How would you be the hypocrite here, Alex?” he asks with accusation he can’t hide, not even caring that he might blow his cover in front of the entire group. “I understand that you can’t mess up your therapy progress, that you can’t use sex as a tool and that you’re supposed to get out of a relationship before starting another one and so on, but - a hypocrite? How?!”

For the first time since the session started, Alex properly looks at Jack, and it burns, it makes him recoil. “Because I would be cheating on Tay.”

The group erupts into raised voices. It’s all chaos, everybody trying to inject their opinion at once, outraged by Alex’s statement. Jack opens his mouth to scream, but Charelle beats him to it with her booming voice.

“It’s not cheating when you’re cheating on a cheater! She was the one who did this to you first!”

The majority seems to be in agreement with her. Alex raises both his hands to catch everyone’s attention so they let him speak again. “It still feels wrong, alright? I've never - since I’ve started seeing her, she was always the only one. I - I can’t do this. I really want to though. Does that make me a bad person?”

“No, Alex. It doesn’t,” Doc Lewis says, his authority the only thing that can help shut everybody else up. “It just makes you human. And I don’t think you’re in the wrong here. You’ve met someone new, someone who you could be with but you just don’t know yet, and you don’t know if it’s worth giving up what you have so far. And that’s valid. But I don’t think you should give up this new relation.”

If Alex’s turn doesn’t end quick, Jack is going to vomit everywhere.

“What do I do then?” Alex looks up at Doc, sorta hopeful, sorta doubtful.

“Fuck the guy!” Li exclaims, Charelle putting her hand up for a high five.

“No, don’t,” says Carla, but Alex is only staring at Doc Lewis like the man carries all the wisdom of the world.

“Become friends with him first,” Doc answers, stunning everybody into silence. “Form a bond. See how you feel about this, about him. Maybe if it goes on for some time you will feel ready to end things with Taylor and move onto something better. If you don’t wait and see, you will just remain stuck in your vicious circle, like many of us in here. This is a big opportunity, Alex. So, you know, no pressure,” he laughs. Alex seems resigned, like he’s exhausted, his shoulders are slumped, but he nods, acknowledging the advice without enthusiasm. “Anyone else has a comment for Alex? If it’s something in the lines of ‘Fuck him’ or ‘Don’t fuck him’, please don’t speak up.”

Nobody speaks up and they move on to Tom.

Jack is so lost that when his turn comes, he just says he slept with Rian again, to nobody’s surprise. He can feel the disappointment coming at him from all sides of their circle, but especially from Alex, even though he cannot even look at the guy now.

He can’t force himself to look up from the floor.

*

Alex is trying to head out as soon as the session is over, not even stopping by the snack table. Jack promptly abandons his strawberry frosted donut mission and runs out after Alex, pulling him to a halt in the hallway.

“Hey! Running out like that? It’s what cowards do.”

Alex turns around with a scowl on his face. “Maybe that’s who I am.”

“I really don’t think so.”

Jack has no idea what he wants from this, but he can’t have it end like that, he can’t let Alex leave. There is something to be done here, Jack just doesn’t know what yet. His first instinct is to push Alex against the wall and start kissing him, but he doesn’t do that; his second instinct tells him it would be a huge mistake.

“Look, Jack. What do you want me to say? I fucked up. I fucked up in there, I fucked up in general. I wanted to help myself and I - Can we just - I don’t know, forget about everything that happened and…? Just forget?”

“I don’t want to forget about it.” Jack is shell-shocked by the completely honest words leaving his mouth, but now they’re out there for Alex to do with them as he pleases. Alex though seems completely at a loss, his face nothing but confusion and misery.

It’s like that point in a video game where you’re desperately looking for a save point because your health is on low, your only weapon is a chef’s knife and you just don’t know how to proceed, so you need to pause, have a drink of water and come back to the game when you’re smarter.

This time, there’s no save point though, and Jack has to trudge forward.

How does Jack save this?

“I think we should become friends first,” he finally says, remembering how Doc’s words hit him as an actually smart idea that might work, even if it takes a lot of effort and self-restraint. Alex’s face turns from miserable and confused to highly sceptical and that’s already a huge leap ahead.

“Seriously?”

“One hundred percent seriously.” Jack can’t emphasize any harder how much he means it. He just wants to _do things_ with Alex, appropriate things or not. Like Alex himself said, there is something good going on between them. It’s a chance to take their life into their own hands.

Alex scoffs, frowning, and crosses his arms on his chest. “Funny that you live in a world where someone can just approach another person with a friendship offering and become friends, like, just like that.”

“Yeah. It’s not a bad world to live in. It’s like permanent junior high.”

The comment makes Alex laugh in an honest way, like he’s finally relaxing. “Your sense of humor is fucking ridiculous. Your apartment is a mess and you have a worrying tendency to leave items of clothing behind.”

“All true. Now, on to the redeeming qualities please?”

Alex chuckles even more, leaning on the wall. He’s very close to Jack now, pulling on the button of Jack’s open denim jacket to play with it for no reason, probably just wants to busy his hands with something, and Jack wants nothing but to fall into him like gravity is telling him to. “Your fucking ridiculous sense of humor. Your taste in music, obviously. And you’re not a bad kisser.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” Jack is aware they’re playing with fire, but hell, what’s wrong with it if both parties consent? They’re leaning into each other now, it’s like their night at Vinny’s bar all over again. Jack places a hand on the back of Alex’s head, tangling his fingers in Alex’s soft hair again. Alex makes a sound. Someone is going to catch them red-handed any minute now and they won't let them have peace, ever.

“This isn’t very… friendly,” Alex says, the words leaving his mouth with difficulty.

“Fuck that. Someone wise once said that everything above the waist is fair game.”

“That’s a hard _no_ from me,” Alex laughs, pushing Jack away and breaking their connection when they can hear footsteps coming towards them. "But I will take you up on that free popcorn and employee discount. What's good to see in your movie theatre next weekend?"

Jack never believed that everything happens for a reason, but maybe there is a reason for what's happening now. Maybe a reason behind this is for Jack to learn how to think before doing. Maybe to learn how to make smarter choices.

He is determined to do the entire _friends first_ thing with Alex properly, or die trying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will this work out or is Jack completely delusional? 
> 
> Please let me know in the comments if you're liking it! Love you <3


	6. I'm hardly together and I'll gladly surrender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a1uxewDJSzg>

“What do I wear?”

Alex is jumpscared by his phone even ringing in the first place; people his age just don’t call each other anymore unless some kind of disaster is taking place, so when Alex picks up Jack’s call, he asks what’s wrong immediately.

“Nothing, nothing’s wrong except you didn’t tell me where the fuck we’re going and as a person who puts at least some effort into my looks I would like to know the answer to my simple question. What do I wear, Alex.”

Alex, who only ever puts a minimal amount of effort into his own looks, scratches his temple. “I - I don’t know. Wear what you usually wear? I have no idea.”

“Oh my God, dude. I know we’re supposed to meet up with your friends or whatever, but where? At your house? In a club? At a cemetery? At an 80’s roller disco? Because knowing that would really help me pick an outfit.”

Alex giggles into his phone. “We’re meeting at Otto. Totally informal. Literally nothing to stress over.”

“Oh. Alright, that’s - that’s good.”

Jack falls silent for a while, sparking Alex’s worry. Is he actually nervous about meeting Alex’s friends? It’s not like he’s got anything to lose.

“Do you want me to come over and help you pick something?” Alex offers after the prolonged silence, in a weak attempt to do something to cheer Jack up. It’s only a stupid meeting with Alex’s stupid friends; nothing about it is worth a second of Jack’s nerves.

“No, there’s not enough time for you to make it,” Jack answers and Alex can hear the tones of a smile in his voice. Maybe. He’s not 100% sure.

“Right.” Alex looks at his watch and yeah, there’s definitely not enough time for him to make it to Jack’s and then to Ottobar before 9PM. Seems like there’s really nothing to be done. “See you at 9 then? In front of Otto?”

“Alright. Don’t be late.”

“I’m never late,” Alex lies, trying to defend himself. Jack simply chuckles and hangs up.

After his third outfit change, Alex concludes that he’s being stupid, throws on a leather jacket and a beanie and simply leaves his apartment.

*

Becoming friends first with Alex Gaskarth definitely hasn’t been Jack’s worst idea.

There is something about him that Jack fails to describe, something he does without even trying that makes Jack’s blood flow a little faster and his world a little more colorful. Jack can swear it’s not just the fact that he finds Alex ridiculously attractive. There must be more to it; maybe it’s the spark in Alex’s eye when he listens to all the stories Jack tells him, even the stupid and embarrassing ones. Maybe it’s something else, something that keeps Jack awake, against all odds, during late hours of the night when Alex is trying to explain international politics to him. Maybe it’s the fact that Alex laughs at exactly the same things Jack does, even though sometimes at first he pretends not to.

Rian comes over very rarely now, mostly because Jack often tells him he’s busy. He throws himself into his work, taking more shifts and when he’s got free time, it’s eaten up by band practice (which means seeing Rian too, but on neutral grounds), catching up with friends he neglected lately, and late nights with Alex. Mostly late nights with Alex, honestly.

Jack can slowly feel himself disconnect from Rian and his bullshit. The support group applauds him almost weekly now and it feels so good to finally not be their disappointment.

They’re hiding their growing friendship from the group; messily, but they try. Alex talks a little about the new friend he made, just like Doc Lewis advised, and he’s always smiling, underlining how things are going well.

 _Hell yeah they are_ , Jack is thinking each and every time Alex is talking, a glow lighting him up from the inside.

They seem to be the ones doing the best in their group lately. Esme is still unable to tell her husband that she’s in love with a woman, but she keeps on retelling various stories of Miranda’s academic achievements. Adam exchanges his lover for another one, even younger this time, and even Doc Lewis can’t help but facepalm at the news. Li is pregnant and not sure who the father is. Charelle’s sugar daddy is bedridden with a heart disease.

They’re all a work in progress, only some of them seem to be going backwards instead of moving on.

Jack takes a walk from the subway in the chilly, almost frosty air. He’s trying not to give in to the sudden self-consciousness that attacks him. _It’s just Alex. Alex knows you’re not the smartest guy in the world, that you never went to college and that you have a dirty mind. He knows all of it and still likes you. His friends will accept you._

Jack is not sure why he even cares.

He sees Alex cross the street in front of the club, so he stops in his tracks and waves at the other guy. Alex is wearing a leather jacket, tight skinnies, combat boots and a beanie and Jack’s breath hitches in the stupidest way. Yes, there’s no point in hiding the obvious attraction he feels for the guy. Alex is hot, he’s got the nicest hair, the tightest body and carries himself with a certain carelessness that simply drives Jack crazy. It’s still difficult not to act upon it, but sometimes he can see Alex is struggling as well.

They don’t talk about it. It’s the only thing they don’t talk about.

“Hey, man.” They routinely greet each other with a quick hug now and tonight is no different, Alex wrapping an arm around Jack’s back to give it a firm pat. “Whoa, hold on, whaaat?” Alex reaches to touch Jack’s hair after the hug is over; the red has faded out enough for Jack to dye a part of his hair teal. “It looks so cool.” Alex runs his fingers through the vibrant blue streaks. He’s close, he smells so good and different Jack knows it’s a special evening after all, no matter how many times Alex claims it’s not.

“Got bored with the red and figured it was time for change,” Jack grins, overjoyed with Alex’s reaction.

“Totally. You look like a fucking rock star.”

“You don’t look half bad yourself,” Jack compliments, although it is nowhere close to the truth. Alex looks the bomb.com, but Jack bites his tongue for once. He already said enough.

“Thank you!” Alex laughs, spinning around as if trying to show off his outfit. The little sway in his steps makes Jack think that maybe Alex started drinking early today, perhaps had two glasses of wine by himself just to take the edge off. “Okay, let’s go in! Vic texted me that they’re already waiting.”

“Do we have, like, a booth?” Jack asks, following Alex inside. The place is quite packed for a night with no special events. The speakers are playing Enter Shikari, something off their first, delightfully weird album. “I could never find a booth in Otto, like, ever.”

“Dude.” Alex stops to turn to Jack and shake his head at him with a smirk. “I’m a manager here, what do you think? _I_ won’t have a booth? Come on.” Alex starts pulling Jack by his jacket sleeve deeper inside the bar where his friends are already seated in a booth. Two of them are hardcore-looking dudes, neck tattoos, gauges and snapbacks all present. Another one has a kind face and spiky hair that was fashionable in the 90’s, when Dragon Ball was a thing, and another is short, brown-haired, tattoo-free and very much _not_ hardcore looking. Jack quickly recognizes him as Vic Fuentes, Alex’s best friend and basically a one-man orchestra. He’s a local legend, him and his brother Mike having started a band called Before Today that Jack looks up to a whole lot.

Jack realizes both Vic and Mike, and also two other guys, are currently looking at him doubtfully. _I’m not gonna make it out of here alive._

He patiently waits through Alex greeting everyone with a half-hug and a bro handshake before Alex finally makes to introduce him.

“Okay, Jack, this is Mike, Tony, Jaime and Vic. Guys, this is Jack. He’s very famous. He plays guitar in All Time Low.”

“In _what?_ ” Tony asks curiously while Jack plans how to discreetly suffocate Alex, who’s already seated in the booth, beaming proudly.

“It doesn’t matter.” Jack laughs it off and nobody asks anymore. There’s handshakes and salutations and Alex starts loudly considering what drinks they should have. It does seem to be an ordinary night with friends and none of them seem to be assholes. Jack relaxes, tapping into his outgoing, friendly self fully.

That’s when yet another guy comes along, with a bowl of nachos in his hands, and slides into the seat next to Vic, wrapping an arm around him.

“Oh. Hi. Who do we have here?” the new guy asks, looking at Jack with his icy bright eyes.

“What the fuck, Vic. I thought we weren’t supposed to bring plus ones tonight?” Alex says in a whiny voice. Vic and the new guy both giggle.

“Figured I was fine as long as, you know, my plus one also happens to be _your friend._ ”

Alex mutters something that sounds like _cool motive, still unfair_ and the guy extends his hand Jack’s way. “Kellin. Also known as Vic’s plus one, apparently. You never know with these guys.”

“Jack. Thought I was Alex’s plus one but I think I’m not cool enough for him to admit it,” Jack jokes, noticing that Alex is busy talking to Tony and Mike. He thinks he’s going to like Kellin.

“Oh, been there, done that. Many times. But then I told Vic we’re not banging anymore unless he takes me seriously and introduces me to his parents. So we flew to San Diego for Cinco de Mayo and, obviously, they loved me.” Kellin reaches for a nacho, crunching down on it for punctuation.

“Aspirational,” Jack agrees, grabbing a nacho of his own.

The evening flies by, filled with conversations, drinking, two very lame rounds of pool and Alex’s hand on Jack’s knee each time Alex offers a trip to the bar for more beers or basically whenever he wants to tell Jack anything.

Things are good, even though Jack’s head is spinning for reasons completely different than alcohol consumption.

*

Jack is looking especially charming tonight.

Alex is trying not to be like _this_ , but each time his eyes even briefly fleet over the other man, they get stuck. His gaze sticks to the new, fascinating teal shade in Jack’s hair, to his strong profile or his dorky smile, his big hands or his fine butt. There’s a lot of different things to look at and they’re all delightful. It’s almost as if Alex is seeing Jack for the very first time. Jack turns out to be a social animal in Alex’s friend group, fitting in seamlessly; after two or three drinks it’s hard to imagine he was ever _not_ one of them. For a hot minute Alex thinks he’s gonna have to battle for Jack’s attention, but Jack always seems to be drifting back to him, as if pulled by gravity.

Drinking and Jack’s presence, but especially drinking _in_ Jack’s presence, is making Alex horny. Usually, this is an easily solvable problem, but not tonight, not right now. Alex is drunk, horny and stupid, but he’s still behaving. He bursts into uncontrollable laughter when Jack fucks up a particularly easy shot at pool.

“As if you could do better, Sunshine Boy,” Jack teases, poking Alex in the flesh of his shoulder very gently with a cue. “Go on. Show me your pool skills.”

“Oh well, challenge accepted.” Alex semi-gracefully intercepts the cue (some gods of drinking must be watching over him tonight) and makes it to the table, leaning over it, unnecessarily putting his ass on display for a good show. He takes a look at Jack, who’s standing there with his arms crossed and a smirk on his lips, _Good Riddance_ is playing and Alex concentrates like he never did before.

He flawlessly pockets the ball, a chorus of excited screams and cheers erupting around him.

“Congratulations,” Jack says, patting Alex’s arm with a fond expression and then ruffling his hair. “Not bad with balls, are we.”

Alex’s tongue tangles somewhere in between his teeth trying to respond, his thoughts in a jumbled mess, his heart dancing to the rhythm of _Africa_ by Toto. Jack is staring into Alex’s eyes intensely. A void forms around them and swallows everybody else in the club.

At least that’s how Alex feels like until Vic pulls him away, and maybe that’s for the best. “Come to the bar with me, man, I need someone to help me carry.”

Alex ignores the fact that they just got fresh drinks ten minutes ago and follows Vic to the bar where Vic just sits down on one of the empty stools and magically conjures another one for Alex.

“Are you a magician?” Alex asks stupidly, seeing Vic frown in lack of understanding.

“What? Dude, I’m - well, nevermind. I just wanted to ask you about Jack very quickly. You’re sleeping with him, right?”

The unpleasant shock that runs through Alex’s body makes him blink and sober up a little in literal seconds. He hangs his mouth open before he is able to give Vic an answer. “No! Why would you - why would you assume that?”

With a knowing smile, Vic shrugs. “Because I _see_ you two.”

“No, I’m -” Alex runs both his hands down his face a couple times, taking deep breaths of air and trying to just think, but it’s so hard to think in a situation like this one, especially when you’re not at your top thinking capability. “I’m trying very hard no to, okay?”

“Not to sleep with him?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?” Vic seems at a loss, hanging both his hands down his body. Nick from the bar comes to ask if they want anything, but Vic just waves him off.

“For various reasons.”

“Alright. That’s a shame.”

“A - Vic, wait,” Alex starts, but someone yells Vic’s name from the pool table and he’s gone, leaving Alex confused and with no beers to hide behind. Alex doesn’t get him alone until an hour and a half later, in the bathroom, when Vic is just the right amount of tipsy.

Alex, on the other hand, has had a drink of water. He’s ready to see this through.

Vic is washing his hands when Alex taps him on the shoulder. “Alex. My man. What’s up?”

“Why is it a shame?”

Vic is now cornered between Alex and a sink and there’s no way he’s leaving this bathroom without answering all of Alex’s questions. Or just the one question that Alex has, but it’s an important one. “Why is what a shame?”

“That I’m not sleeping with Jack.”

“Oh my God. What do you think?” Vic closes the tap, reaching for a paper towel, but there’s none in the dispenser, so he wipes his hands on his jeans. “So one of my best friends finally brings along someone that he vibes so well with, peas in a pod, chemistry you can almost touch, sparks flying right left and center and, I don’t know, am I not supposed to root for my best friend’s happiness?” Vic punches Alex in the chest lightly, but it hurts more than he probably intended.

Alex bruises easily.

“But -”

“No buts. And I don’t want to hear one word about Tay! She clearly doesn’t care half as much as you do.”

“I wasn’t going to-”

“I fucking _know_ you were, Alex. It’s okay. You were in love with her for a very long time. I know what it feels like! But you know what? For your own sake, it’s time to stop.”

Alex feels like Vic punched him in the chest not only physically, but mentally as well. He’s still trying to wrap his head around his friend’s words, but however hard he tries, he can’t find a flaw in his logic.

“Fuck you, Vic, why do you have to be so smart?”

“Somebody around here has to,” Vic answers, wrapping an arm around Alex’s shoulder and leading him towards the door. “Come on, man. One more drink and we have to wrap the party up.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Vic.”

“Anytime. Also, Alex, for what it’s worth? I think Jack’s a good dude, and you two would be great together. So if that ever happens, I’ll be in the front row cheering on you. Alright?”

Overwhelmed with gratitude, Alex throws his arms around Vic in a hug, leaning his chin on his friend’s shoulder and just standing like that in silence, Vic patting his back lightly.

That’s when the bathroom door opens and they can hear Kellin’s loud “Yo, what the _fuck_?!”

*

 **Alex:** Thanks for coming out with me tonight

 **Jack:** thanks for having me, and having friends who love me

 **Alex:** Don’t flatter yourself

 **Alex:** But seriously, they did like you. Basically everyone texted me that you’re good to hang anytime.

 **Jack:** wow. feeling blessed rn

 **Alex:** I’m feeling lonely and horny

 **Alex:** lorny

 **Jack:** that’s so not a word. also jerk off to make it stop

 **Alex:** Thanks for the input. Wishing you were here to make it stop tbh.

 **Jack:** you’re drunk. go to sleep, it’s 3am

 **Jack:** night, Alex

*

“Alright. Since nobody else seems to have anything left to share today, I want to talk to you about consent. It might be an issue you don’t pay much attention to, and that’s wrong, especially since all of you struggle to -”

Doc’s speech is interrupted by the door banging open and Charelle walking in, no, _waltzing in_ , forty five minutes late, her hair freshly braided, a fancy fur shawl hanging off her arms, a bottle of champagne in her hand. When she places her hand on Doc’s shoulder, all eyes on her, the only thing missing is her own theme music.

Maybe _Shanghai_ by Nicki Minaj would fit. No, _Paper Planes_ by M.I.A. would fit even better, Jack decides as the song sounds off in his head, accompanying Charelle when she opens her mouth.

“He’s dead, y’all.”

Nobody dares to react, even though they all know she’s talking about her sugar daddy, Howard or Harold or whatever his name was. The one with a heart disease, who gave Charelle access to one of his secret savings accounts “just in case”.

The silence that falls after her words is so tense it hurts Jack to breathe. He sneaks a look at Alex; Alex is just staring at Charelle, his mouth open slightly.

“Charelle, are you okay-”

“Yes! Of course I am okay, I am over the moon! I’m taking y’all to Mosaic to celebrate cuz’ y’all are ironically the best friends I currently have. Drinks on me. Well, one round of ‘em, I gotta save enough of the old man’s money to get me through college.”

“You’re going to college?” Carla asks, her eyebrows halfway up her forehead.

“Right now I’m going to Mosaic with my support group pals, Carla, and you’re invited too, so get your asses up and let’s move it.”

“Charelle, hold on a second.” Doc Lewis turns to Charelle with a concerned expression. “A man has just _died._ Do you really think it’s appropriate to - to celebrate his death? In a nightclub?”

“We won’t be celebrating his death. We’ll be celebrating his life, which is over! And my life, which he just made much, much better by not being alive anymore.”

Confused by the logic, Doc Lewis doesn’t reply. Li is the first one to stand up from her chair and approach Charelle. “Happy for you, sister,” she says, offering a hug, which Charelle accepts. Jack thinks it’s pretty fucking neat that Char gets to follow her dreams because some old dude kicked the bucket, so he gets up as well, Charelle throwing her arms around Jack’s neck and jumping in excitement.

*

They all end up going, even Doc Lewis.

Mosaic, as always, is packed to the brim. They only let Allie in after Tom claims she’s his daughter, which doesn’t really spark the bouncer’s doubt, even though she doesn’t make the smallest effort to hide her strong British accent. Mosaic was never Alex’s scene, too posh, too fancy, too expensive and everything they play is fucking EDM, turning Alex’s brain to mush after ten minutes. A table is cleared for the group thanks to Char slipping someone a couple of fat bills (if she really wants to go to college, she’s gonna have to start being more responsible with money), Alex orders a neat whisky, sits on the far end of the table and starts wondering why he’s in a sour mood.

Tonight is all about celebrating life, Charelle said, celebrating life and doing whatever you want with it. Maybe sometimes it’s okay to wait for the opportunity to fall into your hands, but maybe sometimes it’s better to just go out and grab whatever you want out of life’s hands.

Maybe Alex should go and get what he wants for himself.

Some of the group has moved on to the dancefloor, bouncing to the EDM that’s making Alex feel slightly sick to his stomach. Jack is there too, drink in hand, biting down on a straw, Allie draped all over him for some reason, her ginger hair down in beautiful, glossy waves. She’s whispering something into his ear that’s making him laugh. Her lips are basically touching his skin, his hand is on her waist and Alex’s stomach does another unpleasant twist.

 _It’s okay. You know Jack has chemistry with everybody_ , Alex is trying to reason with himself, but it’s not working at all; he’s still seeing red.

He puts down the drink he’s not even halfway done with, puts on his jacket and leaves the table, nobody even taking notice, his heart in his throat somewhere, the music turning to a constant pumping beat in his ears. In the last-minute glimmer of sanity, he grabs Jack’s jacket from the back of a chair and folds it over his arm.

Jack doesn’t notice him until Alex is right in his face, grabbing him by the wrist. Allie raises an eyebrow.

“Just gonna borrow him for a second. Hope you don’t mind.”

Allie raises both her hands, stepping back. “Not at all, mate. He’s all yours.”

Alex starts pulling Jack out of the club and he’s not met with much resistance.

“Where are we going?” Jack asks, screaming to Alex to be heard over the music.

“Out. I brought your jacket.”

“Wow. Thank you?” Jack throws the piece of clothing on, leaving his drink on some random table and following Alex out into the cold air. They pass the queue of people waiting to be let in, they pass the cars parked illegally along the sidewalk until Alex decides to round the corner, grabbing Jack by the wrist again so he doesn’t lose him, only this time Jack moves his hand up so they end up actually holding hands while power-walking into a dark alley behind the club. “Alex? I’m still confused as to where we’re going? Is everything okay?”

Alex can’t hear his own thoughts over the beating of his stupid heart, but it’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.

Not wanting to let go of Jack’s hand, Alex uses his free one to push Jack against the wall and pin him there. “Yeah, everything is just perfect.”

Before Jack can reply or do anything, Alex lunges forward and kisses him.

He doesn’t even start slow at first. He’s full on deep breaths, a hungry moan and tongue sliding in, ready to feel everything, ready for life in full colors to finally flash before his eyes when he feels Jack wrapping his arms around him, keeping him grounded. Their teeth knock together and it’s perfectly imperfect, the noise of cars and music from the nearby street like a part of another life in another dimension because Alex is completely lost in this, in _them_ , in their bodies and the feelings in between them.

He breaks the kiss just so he can look into Jack’s eyes and ask, “Is that - is that okay?”

Jack smirks. “Hells yeah,” he whispers, sliding his palms down to Alex’s ass and pulling him closer, so close there’s no space left anymore, their bodies pressed together and Jack is hard. Alex can feel himself growing hard too, just from the fact that he’s not absolutely terrified anymore; the overwhelming emotions are now pure, intoxicating joy and desire. They’re both sober, too, because they’ve only been in the club for literally twenty minutes and had half a drink each. Jack bites down on Alex’s lip, causing Alex to moan and pull on Jack’s hair, which fires Jack up even more, their kisses turning into something that definitely should not be happening in public.

“Okay, okay, alright. Enough,” Alex pulls away, breaking contact between their lips, crotches and hands. He’s a little out of breath and doesn’t really know what to do with himself anymore. Jack’s leaning against the wall, a smile blooming on his kiss-bitten lips and Alex just wants to kiss him again and again until he’s had his fair share.

“I thought we were supposed to be friends first,” Jack says, slowly, like he’s thinking upon every single word.

“Well, mission accomplished, yeah? On to the next one.”

“The next one? What are you even saying?”

Alex doesn’t know what he’s saying. He only knows he’s taking what he wants from life, that he’s making himself happy, making Jack happy, too, if only Jack wants that. “I mean we did the friends thing as well as we possibly could. I don’t wanna be just friends anymore.”

“Alright,” Jack answers, still kind of carefully, and reaches out to touch Alex’s cheek slowly, like he’s still thinking. “We can walk to mine from here, you know. We’ll be there in fifteen.”

“So you don’t wanna - I don’t know, go back in and stay for the party? Finish your drink at least, or say goodbye to everybody so they don’t worry about us, or-”

Jack cuts Alex off with a quick, but firm kiss to his lips. “No. I want to take you home. Let’s go, alright?”

Alex follows Jack out into the light of the street again, holding his hand, more than ready to do the stupid thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took forever, irl has been A Lot lately.
> 
> Hope you're all well and enjoyed this chapter that I've looked forward to writing forever.
> 
> Please tell me your predictions as to what will happen next!


	7. Afterglow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a1uxewDJSzg>

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw please check the rating

There’s a silent mutual agreement between Jack and Alex not to talk about all the questions hanging in the air between them as they walk to Jack’s apartment hurriedly. They’re not quite holding hands, but their fingers brush against each other all the time and Alex hooks his pinkie around Jack’s index finger when they’re waiting for the light to turn green. Stolen glances they exchange make Jack feel like he’s a teenager, sneaking around with his 18-year-old neighbor Martin to have his first gay experience in Martin’s dad’s battered Ford Ranger.

Alex pulls on a hood over his beanie. “It’s cold, isn’t it? I’m cold.”

Jack is anything but cold when Alex bumps shoulders with him again. Their bodies are screaming for each other. Jack is trying to concentrate on this, not on his mind replaying what Alex said in therapy that one time. _I would be cheating on Tay._

What changed? Jack realizes they got much closer as friends and people, but was that enough? Maybe nothing has changed except Alex doesn’t care about his own moral code anymore.

He is not capable to think about this properly, let alone come up with an answer. Not right now, not when he’s trying to unlock his apartment door and as soon as it clicks open, he can feel Alex’s arms sneak around his waist from behind, Alex pushing him inside gently.

They hold their composure for long enough to properly take off their shoes and jackets. Jack takes a little longer and Alex waits for him, fixing up his hair in the mirror. The gesture is so endearing in an unexplained way Jack gives in to the immediate need to kiss Alex again, to lock him in his arms and feel every inch of his body against his own.

He kisses Alex until he’s out of breath. Alex’s hands have already found a way underneath Jack’s t-shirt and the man is grinning at Jack with his bright teeth. There’s a good reason why Jack calls him Sunshine Boy.

“Jack?”

“Mhm?” Jack knows he won’t be able to focus on Alex’s words when he’d rather be taking Alex’s jeans off. For real, Alex seriously needs to start working on talking less in situations of this kind.

“I just want to know if this - all of this, if it’s okay with you.”

“What about my behavior exactly suggests that it might not be?” Jack suspects Alex took Doc’s unfinished consent speech to heart. “Dude. I’m all yours and down to do whatever. Well, maybe not _whatever_ , but - you know.”

“Do you have a safeword?” Alex asks and maybe he’s joking, but Jack’s not sure, so he jokes back.

“Matt Damon.”

“No, come on, it’s supposed to be something you _don’t_ usually say during sex!”

They end up laughing together, then making out again, then taking off each other’s shirts. “Your bedroom, yeah?”

Jack nods, and they make their way there, where Jack’s brain finally shuts up and his body just goes at it.

And it works. It works like a dream.

*

The bed is unmade when Alex is thrown against it, the blanket tangling around his ankles when Jack is trying to take Alex’s jeans off. It’s not like Alex expected it to be any different, everything about the two of them full of mistakes and mishaps, but still wildly thrilling, even if there’s no glamour and no candlelight and no Michael Bublé playing softly in the background. _Maybe that’s exactly why it’s so good_ , _I hate Michael Bublé_ , Alex thinks while Jack tries and fails to undress him.

“Okay, let me do it. Do yours,” Alex orders, getting it done quickly and kicking his pants to the floor. Jack takes off his own pants in the meantime, but it turns out he got rid of the underwear as well and Alex is treated to a full view.

It’s a nice view.

Jack notices Alex looking and isn’t shy about it. “We good, Gaskarth?”

Biting his lip, Alex raises his hips to pull off his underwear, too, so that they’re on equal level. He can see Jack’s gaze flit downwards first, then back to Alex’s eyes and the expression on Jack’s face is a complete mystery.

“We’re good. We’re great, even. Come here.”

It’s miraculous how all the stress is gone when you’re actually doing the thing you were so nervous about. Alex doesn’t get to worry anymore; a mistake or not, this feels too fucking blissful to go to waste, so he enjoys every second. The only things he has room to think about are Jack’s tongue and Jack’s hands and Jack’s skin on his skin, the warmth seeping to Alex’s bloodstream and hopefully staying there forever.

When Alex is sure his body temperature can’t possibly get any higher and also that he will probably explode from just grinding against Jack, Jack suggests something in a passing whisper right into Alex’s ear. “You wanna fuck me?”

Alex’s body replies with a chill that curls his toes and makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He answers by sinking his fingertips into the flesh of Jack’s buttcheek. It’s hard to say what Alex was expecting from this entire ordeal, the two of them having sex, because he probably just went into it without any expectations at all. He certainly wasn’t prepared for how intense this feels, the air around them seeming to have more molecules than it should, Alex’s senses heightened to the point where every little movement is overwhelming.

First, Jack takes it facing the wall, braced against the headboard and Alex can’t see anything but the curve of Jack’s spine, the muscles of his back and his dark head of hair.The feeling of being buried deep inside and finding the rhythm is still glorious, sending Alex to a world of nothing but bodies and instincts and heat. Something is missing though, something feels wrong and off, so Alex decides to speak up.

“Jack?”

“Yeah?” Jack grunts out, turning his head to look at Alex as much as he can.

He knows he’s basically putting himself out there to be harshly and ruthlessly judged, but somehow being with Jack, out of all people, gives him the courage to make the request anyway. “I - I wanna see you.”

Jack doesn’t say anything other than “Alright”. Seconds later, Alex is pushed to the pillows as Jack takes over, sinking himself down on Alex’s cock, moaning loudly with a blissful expression on his face that convinces Alex he made the right call. Needing to somehow be even closer, he gestures for Jack to lean in for a kiss, which is messy and attention-lacking but still somewhat pure and good and satisfying, especially with the sounds Jack’s making as Alex starts jerking him off, knocking Jack’s own hands out of the way, matching the rhythm of the thrusts.

Jack is breathing so fast and shallow Alex isn't sure how Jack’s still alive. In a moment of misjudged tenderness, Alex decides to press his lips against the stupid Jack Skellington tattoo on Jack’s chest, tasting salty skin there; it seems Jack’s heartbeat is just as fast and shallow as his breathing.

That doesn't change the fact that Alex’s gesture is silly, cheesy and perhaps too intimate. He braces himself for Jack’s negative reaction, thoughts speeding through his head and tipping over each other as he’s getting closer and closer to his climax. In a shocking turn of events, Jack doesn’t react negatively, no, it’s precisely the other way around; he leans into the touch with his entire body, securing his elbows on both sides of Alex’s head, his muscles tensing up and soon he’s spilling his release through Alex’s fingers, moaning into the pillow. It wakes up some of Alex’s protective instincts, so he holds Jack close, caressing his lower back, kissing the side of his face. Alex feels it moments later, like lights are going black and the earth slips away but nothing really changes, it’s just an orgasm; a damn great one, but still just something the human body is naturally capable of. The wave spreads up to his neck and down to his toes and before it leaves, Jack is kissing him again, slow and languid like he _understands_ that this is what Alex needs, to be gently guided and painlessly brought back to reality.

He’s almost scared to look into Jack’s eyes after that, but he also doesn’t want to look anywhere else.

“Well, that was. That was - yeah,” Jack stutters out, situating himself next to Alex on the pillows and gazing into Alex’s eyes with no shame. Jack’s hand is resting on Alex’s hip, drawing little invisible circles on his skin, and his face is flushed vibrant pink.

“That’s kind of a lame thing to say,” Alex says, thinking he should laugh or at least feign offense, but it comes out sincere and Jack shakes his head, pulling Alex in by the hip.

“Shut up,” he replies, effectively managing to shut Alex up with a kiss.

*

When Alex wakes up to the smell of what is definitely scrambled eggs with bacon and toast, he’s pretty sure he’s dreaming. Nobody, safe for his mom, has made him breakfast in years.

The other side of bed is empty and unmade, still smelling distinctly of Jack. Alex revels in it for a second, stretching his blissfully tired limbs, blinking sleep away, mentally making sure he doesn’t have to show up at work until the evening today. When he’s done counting his blessings, he gets out of bed and spends at least three minutes looking for his underwear on the floor. He vaguely remembers losing his shirt somewhere in Jack’s hallway, so there’s no hope getting that now. He leaves the bedroom as quietly as he can, trying to stealthily check up on Jack.

Jack is in the kitchen, humming something as he’s preparing two plates of scrambled eggs, and he’s also wearing just underwear. His hair is delightfully messy and Alex feels a sudden urge to approach him from behind and give him a long hug, but he also doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries.

What boundaries are there anyway?

Calmly, Alex stays in the doorway and clears his throat.

“Oh hey! Morning!” Jack grins at him, waving a spatula.

“What are you doing?”

Jack scratches the side of his head. “Preparing an elaborate apology for fucking your mom, obviously. I’m not really sorry, but I’m trying to do right by you.”

Alex laughs, taken by surprise, and comes over to sit by Jack’s kitchen table. “So is that how you usually deal with morning afters? Do you always make breakfast or is it a special treat?”

The toast pops out of the toaster. Jack adds it to the plate and serves it to Alex, along with a huge cup of coffee. “Let’s say I only make breakfasts if I don’t want the person to leave my house immediately. If you know what I mean.”

Alex shakes his head and smiles into his coffee. He shovels the eggs into his mouth, suddenly realizing how long it’s been since he’s actually eaten. The eggs are lacking some salt, but they’re still good and he’s so grateful.

“What about you?” Jack asks, and Alex realizes the other man is looking at him intently.

“Huh?”

“How do you deal with morning afters?”

“Oh. I usually just wait for the person to wake up and then play them one critically acclaimed song about being an all-star, getting your game on and going to play, and then they just leave by themselves. Wonder why.”

Jack laughs so hard he has to put down his fork for a moment, using both hands to wipe the tears from his eyes.

The day behind the windows is cold and grey, the sky looking like it’s going to rain any minute, and Jack’s kitchen is slightly cold for Alex who’s wearing next to nothing. Still, there’s nothing that could possibly ruin his mood right now. He finishes the rest of his breakfast, washing it down with coffee. He wants to offer to clean up, but he changes his mind seeing the way Jack is looking at him.

It’s a very charged, hungry look.

“So, Jack. Another question. How do you feel about morning sex?”

Jack raises his eyebrows, his hand snaking across the table to reach for Alex’s and start playing with his fingers. “Depends. Are they still hot in the morning?”

“I don’t know. Are they?” Alex deadpans, feeling his heartbeat pick up speed.

Not letting go of Alex’s hand, Jack gets up from his chair and rounds the small table to lean down and give Alex a long, unhesitant kiss that’s underlined with urgency and a promise of more that comes true when Jack wraps an arm Alex’s waist and starts trying to lift him, pull him out of the chair. Alex gives in, following Jack to the living room sofa.

Alex holds onto the single throw pillow Jack owns and bites his own hand as he receives a pretty spectacular blowjob on the same sofa where they first watched The Voice together.

*

“Another question though,” Alex murmurs, the melodic sound of his voice mixing with the rain banging against Jack’s window. It’s a lucky thing Jack actually likes Alex’s voice, because damn, the boy does talk _a lot_.

They’re in bed again, Alex claiming he was still cold and proceeding to wrap himself in a blanket up to his chin. He looks like a cute-faced, brown-haired burrito and Jack really wants to thread his fingers through Alex’s hair and cover his face in kisses.

“Mhm?”

“Opinion on cuddling and general afterglow gentleness?”

“100% positive. I’m a cuddle slut.” Hoping he’s reading the vibe correctly, Jack extends both his arms Alex’s way as a crystal clear cuddle invitation.

“Oh thank God,” Alex says, crawling out of his blanket cocoon and into Jack’s arms, resting his head on Jack’s chest, their legs tangling together. Finally, Jack gets to touch Alex’s soft hair and kiss his forehead; knowing how much he needed to do it makes him realize just how lonely he really felt in life, despite being surrounded by people, before their paths have crossed, and it's kind of beautiful, but also kind of pathetic. “I’ve been wanting to do it ever since I woke up.”

“Should’ve just done that. Duh. Don’t hesitate next time.” Jack knows how implying there might be a next time is threading the line, but hell, he might not be the smartest tool in the shed but he’s not _that_ stupid either.

“I won’t.”

Alex shuts up for a long while then and however nice it seems in the beginning, Jack quickly starts missing his voice, so this time he asks a question, even though he knows it’s going to get him nowhere. “So is that what you had in mind? When you said you didn’t want to be just friends anymore?”

Alex twists a little in Jack’s embrace, turning his head so he can look up at Jack. “No, I fucking wanted us to make a blood oath, what do you think,” Alex replies sarcastically.

“That’s a whole other bodily fluid to swap, dude. At least invite a guy out for dinner first.”

“I did pay for your Chinese that one time like two weeks ago, remember? When we were coming back from Vic’s?”

“Oh yeah, that. You did, yeah,” Jack admits, his fingers tracing the lines of the rose tattoo on Alex’s hand.

“I could invite you though. There’s a new Indian place downtown, I’ve heard good things about it. Can you do Tuesday evening?”

“Wait, I think - no. I’m working Tuesday. Monday or Wednesday?”

“Wednesday it is then,” Alex decides, this fingers absentmindedly tapping Jack’s rib cage.

“Is it, like, a date-type situation? Do I have to dress up all nicely?” Jack asks in an attempt to make things clear and save himself the nerves of making another last-minute phone call to Alex for outfit advice.

“I - I don’t know.” Alex raises his head from Jack’s chest to look at Jack from beneath his furrowed eyebrows. “Can we settle for smart casual? I think that would fit,” he says with a chuckle.

“Okay. So jeans and a collared shirt?”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever. Not like it makes any difference to me anyway,” Alex shrugs.

“Of course, because you prefer me with no clothes on at all,” Jack winks at Alex obnoxiously and watches Alex roll his eyes and pick up a pillow to smash Jack over the head with.

*

The sound of rain behind the window is now mixing with the sound of the shower water running. Alex is showering and Jack feels like it would be nice to stick his head out of the window and let the rain drench him. Not only is he exhausted at 2 PM in the afternoon, his entire body also feels ridiculously hot after three orgasms since morning, like he’s a radiator on the highest setting.

Peacefully waiting until Alex is done, Jack rests in bed on top of the covers, investigating a strange stain on the sheets when Alex’s phone, abandoned right next to the mysterious stain, chimes with a new text message. Jack doesn’t have quite enough time to look away, his eyes reading the message before his brain does.

 **Tay:** hi babe

Purposefully, Jack looks away before any new messages arrive.

Before Alex leaves the bathroom, the phone has chimed six more times. Alex doesn’t know though, because the first thing he does when he reaches the bed is dropping the towel to the floor and basically jumping at Jack, which makes the entire shower idea kind of pointless.

Jack is, however, far from complaining about it.

*

 **Tay:** hi babe

 **Tay:** sorry I haven't been around much lately. Evan got really sick

 **Tay:** some nasty stomach flu. we’ve been at a hospital for three nights and he just got released

 **Tay:** I could really use a pick-me-up right now, but I can’t really leave the house :( when can we hang out?

 **Tay:** I miss your face and just being with you

 **Tay:** anyway you’re probably at work now. just text me whenever you can

 **Tay:** can’t wait to be in your arms again. xxx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this is living up to your expectations!
> 
> Leave me a comment if you're enjoying the story or if you want to talk!


	8. (Don't) paint me wings

**Tay:** I understand why you’re not replying. I completely get it. But I thought our relationship kind of makes me deserve more than being ghosted

 **Tay:** Is that what you’re trying to do to me? Because fuck

 **Tay:** You know what, no. I DON’T understand. I won’t show up at your place uninvited again, not after what happened last time, but I think I deserve a conversation.

 **Tay:** I keep seeing that guy on your Insta and Snapchat. I’m glad you’re having fun. It’s good that you found someone. But don’t leave me behind

 **Tay:** I won’t survive without you

 **Tay:** Text me back, Alex

 **Tay:** Please. I miss you like hell.

*

“She’s been texting me. A lot. Sends me like twenty texts a day, nevermind the fact that I don’t reply.” Alex proceeds to read a couple more texts to the group and they all go more or less in the same manner. _I miss you. I really want to hang out with you. It’s after midnight and I’m thinking of you_ , followed by a nude photo. _Text me back, asshole_. “I know I can’t keep avoiding her forever, it’s just that I’m not ready to confront her just yet. You know what I mean?”

“Well, not really, Alex. Confront her and say what? Do what? Are you going to break off your entire arrangement? Because if not, I don't see the point in meeting with her at all. Ghosting seems to be working just fine.” Li is a self-proclaimed ghosting expert and Alex seems to be considering her advice, but only for a second, just to go back to looking confused and like he’s not even sure of his own name.

Hearing about Taylor constantly being all up in Alex’s business makes Jack feel weird. He doesn’t want to feel weird, he hates that feeling, doesn’t need it for anything and dreads its implications. But he can’t control it. He listens to the texts Alex reads out and shudders with every “babe" and “I miss you”.

Jack suspected that being jealous of Rian for so long and so intensely destroyed his ability to feel this feeling ever again, but it is right here, clear as day, mocking Jack with every nude Alex receives from Tay.

Jack could take a good nude too. And does. Only there's no one he can send them to, unless-

Jack’s train of thought, which is basically an internal debate on whether he should send the nudes to Alex or not, is interrupted by Tom raising his voice in an unexpectedly angry manner. “Don’t make this into a fucking soap opera, you two.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Obviously you two, I mean Alex and Jack, are sleeping together. Have been ever since our - I mean Charelle’s - party, at least. I’ve seen you two leaving together all of a sudden, and you never came back.” Tom, clearly proud of his impressive detective work, crosses his arms on his chest and waits for reactions.

The two or three gasps and whispers that make a round around the circle quickly die out when Doc Lewis speaks up. “Tom! I know I encourage talking freely and sharing all your thoughts, but in this case - maybe you should think before you speak. That was -”

“Out of line, I know.” Tom waves a dismissive hand. “I don't give a fuck. This concerns all of us here, as a group. This is a place of trust and honesty. So if two of us are possibly, highly likely, sleeping together, I demand they tell us.”

“Tom, you cannot possibly demand-”

“It’s alright,” Jack says, his heart pounding its way out of his ribcage, his palms starting to sweat. Luckily, his voice is not shaky. He looks to Alex, all the way across the circle today, for confirmation. Alex is sporting a half-smile and his left knee is nervously bouncing up and down, but there’s certainty in his gaze and he clearly nods his head at Jack. “We are.”

The other shoe drops.

The silence after Jack’s statement, when he looks into Alex’s eyes and can hear only the insane beat of his own heart, lasts for a millisecond.

"I knew _ages ago_ that y'all are fucking! I was right the whole time," states Charelle, proud of herself.

“Oh, _amazing_ ,” says Millie with sarcasm that is unusual of her, louder than everybody else. Clearly, she’s had enough. “So our sessions are going to turn into The Jack and Alex Show now?”

“Can’t you be _happy_ about something for a change, Millie? Jesus.”

“Jesus has nothing to do with it!”

“Of course he doesn't, Carla, again, it’s just something you _say_.”

“Well I don’t appreciate you saying it and therefore making fun of my religious beliefs!”

A full-blown verbal battle sparks on the other side of the circle. Alex is seated smack in the middle of it, but doesn’t get involved; he stuffs half a fist in his mouth to stop himself from laughing when his eyes meet Jack’s, and Jack can’t really contain himself that well. The stress caused by their cover being blown so suddenly and so early is leaving him in the form of giggles and tears streaming from the corners of his eyes and he really, really wants a drink of rosé with Alex.

“Okay, everybody, if you could be so kind to let your doctor speak for a second,” says Doc Lewis, having to raise his voice to make Carla shut up about Jesus, Millie about The Jack and Alex Show, Tom about the apparent lack of appreciation for his detective skills and Li and Esme about the Louboutin sale out of all things. “I think what we’re all missing here is the fact that whatever Jack and Alex decide to do, it’s their choice as two consenting adults. They can explain and justify it to us, but then again, they don't have to. We can all either decide to support them, because what they’re doing might be a huge step forward if they do it right, or we can choose not to support them. I can’t force you to do anything, but I just want to remind you you’ve all made some questionable choices in your day, some of you still continue to - yes, I’m looking at you, Li - and it would be unfair to judge Jack and Alex just because they found some comfort and happiness in each other.” 

The mood shifts drastically. Jack chooses to look at his shoes instead of anywhere else. It feels very strange and somewhat wrong to have the thing between Alex and him spelled out so clearly and presented to the public, fitted in one sentence, simplified. Jack doesn't think it’s that simple, but then again, it’s nobody else’s business but theirs.

“Huh, I think it’s the longest speech I’ve ever given to you guys without somebody interrupting me. I need to write down the date,” says Doc Lewis, and Jack dares to look Alex’s way.

Alex has his gaze glued to the floor, his knee bouncing at light speed.

*

After the session, Jack attempts to get Alex alone in the hallway and, inexplicably, the group actually gives them some privacy.

Alex seems spaced out, like everything Jack is saying is bouncing right off him, like at some point after their big reveal something started hurting him and hasn’t stopped since. It’s alright - Jack is feeling something very similar. Maybe they rushed into it. Maybe it was not time yet. But there’s no use crying over spilled milk, like Jack’s mom always says.

Unconsciously, Jack goes for a different approach to make Alex focus. He steps closer so that their bodies are flush together, and puts a hand in the back pocket of Alex’s jeans.

Alex comes back online, but he’s still distraught, emotionally drained after the session. Is he having doubts now? Did Tay finally send enough texts to break him and make him come crawling back to her? Is that what the new frown across Alex’s forehead is about?

Jack has to go for broke, there’s no time to lose.

“You wanna come back to mine now? We can drink a bottle of rosé and go to bed.” Jack knows it’s not the most seductive thing he’s ever said, but he says it in a whisper into Alex’s ear and waits for the other man to finally react somehow. There’s nothing else he can possibly give.

“I can’t. I have work in an hour, I should be on my way already. I’m sorry. Fuck.” Alex looks more apologetic than the situation calls for. He moves, grabbing for Jack’s wrist and wrapping his fingers around it. “Wish I could though.”

“It’s alright. When are you off? You can come over then.”

Alex shakes his head. “It will be like 3 or 4 in the morning, Jack. You’ll be asleep.”

“It’s okay. One call and I’ll wake up. Do you think we can do this?”

 _I need this_ , Jack wants to say. _I need you_.

“I don’t want to be alone tonight,” Jack forces the words out of his throat and it feels good, liberating almost, to say them.

Alex tightens his grip around Jack’s wrist. “Me neither. I’ll be there.”

*

 **Jack:** on lookout for some fun things to do to keep myself awake before you get here.

Alex is glad he’s alone and in the toilet when he opens Jack’s message. It contains a photo of what is unmistakably Jack’s torso and stomach, all the way down to where Jack has wrapped his palm around his erection, so that only the tip is visible.

Alex almost walks headfirst into a locked door. So is this what they’re doing now? Considering they’ve been sleeping together for over two weeks now, Jack’s way of thinking does make sense in a very Jack-like manner. Maybe the avalanche of Tay’s nudes that Alex mentioned in therapy tonight pushed Jack that one extra step further. Alex is not going to complain.

He keeps on deleting Tay’s nudes, but doesn’t delete Jack’s; how could he? The concert they were hosting at Otto tonight is already over, but it’s still around two hours until they can wrap things up and close down and another half an hour drive before Alex can see all that Jack has to offer in person.

Completely taken aback by the turn of events, Alex leans against the wall to take five deep breaths, force some blood back into his brain and write a response.

 **Alex:** holy hell

 **Jack:** do you like that?

 **Alex:** I’m all about it. Can’t wait to put my hands and tongue all over you

Alex locks his phone and pushes it into his pocket, hoping the image that is now burned into his brain will keep him alive for two more hours of work. He can feel the phone buzzing with another message, but he doesn’t check it until he’s done with everything and grabbing his jacket to leave the club.

 **Jack:** hurry up

Before Alex finally makes it to Jack’s place, it’s 4:13 in the morning and the world feels like a fever dream. He manages to fall asleep twice in his Uber, the driver waking him up with a loud “You dead, son?” when they reach their destination.

Alex might as well be dead. The stairs seem endless and he forgets he was supposed to call Jack’s phone before he starts ringing the doorbell. It’s too late now, the doorbell rings with a shrill sound deep into the apartment and Alex rests his entire body weight on Jack’s door. “Jack?” he starts pounding the door after nothing happens for two minutes. He just hopes no neighbors will walk out to scold him. “Jack! Open up.”

The door finally opens and Alex loses his balance, crashing inside, colliding with Jack’s hard, naked chest. “Easy, tiger,” Jack laughs, steadying Alex by wrapping his arms around him. The other man is so warm and comfortable when Alex rests his head on Jack's shoulder, and Alex is so tired, but now he knows he’s going to be alright. “Let’s go to bed, okay? I -” a massive yawn interrupts Jack. “I was asleep too. Took you long enough.”

“I’m soooorry,” Alex whines when Jack pulls him through the living room and into the bedroom. “Wait, can I - can I brush my teeth?”

“Sure, sure, yeah, I’ll - I’ll wait for you here.” Jack falls onto the bed and curls up, making Alex momentarily jealous of his comfort. He brushes his teeth with one of Jack’s spare toothbrushes as fast as possible just so he can join Jack in bed without losing anymore time.

When he does, Jack, seemingly having fallen into a nap again, opens his eyes immediately and locks Alex in an embrace, throwing one leg over Alex’s hip and finding his lips with his lips. They kiss lazily for a while, both half asleep, Alex’s entire body drenching in easy comfort and peace that seems eternal, their makeout session not leading anywhere; it just feels good to _be_ together, with Jack.

“Isn’t it, like, weird to you?” Jack asks finally. Alex finds it difficult to stay conscious. Jack’s bedroom is all shades and quiet darkness and the window is slightly open, making the curtain move the tiniest bit.

“Weird? What?”

“This. I mean. Just going to sleep together, no sex or anything. I don't think I’ve done it in - in years. Maybe not ever. I don’t know. Not saying it’s bad. Just… weird.”

“I don’t know, man.” It’s too late (or too early?) to think and Alex is too sleepy, like he’s melting into the mattress. He only remembers doing this all the time with Taylor before she met Jordan, while they were still somewhat happy and somewhat together, and never really giving much thought to how intimate it actually was. Maybe Jack is right; maybe it is weird for them to be doing it in their non-defined, non-relationship thing they’ve got going on. “Doesn’t feel weird to me.”

“Okay. Good. I’m glad,” Jack replies quietly and it’s the last thing Alex hears before sleep properly claims him.

*

“Pour me another one.”

Vic has his arms folded on the bar, staring at Jack with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. Or maybe polite impatience; it's hard to tell. “Not unless you pay for the first one.”

Jack sucks in some air from the bottom of his glass through a straw, making an annoying sound, and looks Vic right in the eyes. Trying to rile up Alex’s best friend has become one of Jack’s favorite pastimes, especially because it’s pretty damn hard to make Vic crack. “Alex will. He invited me.”

“Alex did what?” Alex appears next to Vic behind the bar, wielding a stack of papers he puts down to help Vic serve other patrons.

“Jack here claims you’ve invited him and therefore he has your full permission to bother me, disturb me while I work, and not pay for his alcohol,” informs Vic with a mocking smile.

Alex reaches over the bar and smacks Jack to the side of his head. “Pay up, pumpkin. Leave a tip as well.”

Seeing that Vic is already busy mixing a drink for somebody else, Jack grabs Alex by the fabric of his shirt and tries to pull him closer. The other man gives in, his eyes crinkling, both corners of his mouth going up.

“Or what?” Jack asks, attempting a husky voice that’s barely audible over the music.

“Or what? Do you really want to try me?” Alex replies, and Jack may or may not be getting an erection in the middle of Alex’s workplace. After a ten hour shift at the movie theatre Jack came to The Ottobar to just wind down, perhaps make out with Alex in the bathroom once or twice; Alex has been extra busy though, leaving Jack nothing to do but annoy Vic and down one drink after another.

Everything is fine except he’s got this strange, out of place feeling at the back of his head like he’s not supposed to be here. Not sure what exactly it’s about, he decides to ignore it.

“Yeah. I do wanna try you,” he challenges Alex with a stare. It’s good that there’s the surface of a bar between them, causing Jack to keep his hands to himself. Well, mostly - one of his palms ends up covering Alex’s palm on the bar.

“How about you pay for your drink and then we can see about the reward,” says Alex, pulling away. “Unless you’d rather take the punishment.”

“Depends. Which one will I enjoy more?”

Alex shakes his head, _You’re absolutely stupid_ , and Jack gets his credit card ready.

He’s halfway through his third drink when his phone starts ringing. It’s Zack. “Go for Jacky boy?”

“Jack. You dumb _idiot_ ,” Zack rarely sounds like that, so off and stressed, immediately sparking worry in Jack. “Where the fuck are you? We’ve been waiting for over an hour now. Why are you ignoring Flyzik’s texts?”

With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Jack moves his phone away from his ear to see and yes, there’s nine texts from Flyzik he’s apparently ignored. They must’ve come through only now, the reception by the bar not too great. Before Zack even says it, Jack already knows - he forgot about band practice; a very important rehearsal session before a gig next weekend.

“They did not come through. I’m - fuck. I’ll be there in thirty - no, twenty minutes. I promise. I’m so sorry.”

“Rian and Matt are gonna have your head on a stake, man. Hope you’re aware. And I fucking hope you’re not drunk.”

 _Shit._ Perhaps Jack is not drunk, but he’s not sober either; he also doesn’t have his guitar with him and really, really doesn’t want to see Rian tonight. This is not how he imagined this evening to go. “I’ll be there in a flash. Just - just wait, okay?” He hangs up, desperately running his hand through his hair. He can’t believe he forgot about rehearsal. He can’t believe _work_ and _Alex_ made him forget about rehearsal.

“What’s up?” Alex notices Jack’s little freakout and swiftly moves behind the bar to stand opposite Jack again.

“Nothing, nothing, I - I gotta go. I need to be at band rehearsal two hours ago. I’m-” Not thinking much, overcome with a sudden, all-encompassing feeling, Jack pulls Alex in by the nape of his neck, kisses him right on the lips with a loud smack, grabs his jacket and makes for the exit.

When he’s by the door and turns to wave, Alex is still standing in the same place like he’s been struck by lightning, touching fingers to his lips, and Vic is staring at Jack, pouring beer all over the counter instead of into a glass.

*

There are days when Jack is fine meeting Rian on neutral grounds. There are days when he doesn’t care at all, able to just treat him as a good friend and bandmate, able to laugh with him, talk to him, ignore the lingering heartbreak and bitterness that Jack still hasn’t let go of.

And then there are days like the day of the rehearsal Jack was nearly 3 hours late to. As soon as he walks in, knowing it will be their last rehearsal before the day of the show, knowing they will probably fuck up anyway, that _he_ will fuck up, he takes one look at Rian and it dawns on him, crystal clear. Rian will not speak to him directly in the nearest future. He will give him the worst kind of silent treatment, the hostile kind, the burning red aura and a scowl while he keeps on sending toothy smiles to everybody else.

It takes exactly two minutes for Jack to forget everything about the world beyond Rian. He forgets everything Doc Lewis ever said, he forgets the support group and he forgets Alex. There’s only their rehearsal space in an old, defunct venue, Zack and Matt trying to keep things together and failing, there’s Rian’s painful hostility and Jack’s hurt feelings.

He makes it through rehearsal by the skin of his teeth. He puts all of his focus into music, into making it flow and it costs him so much he’s completely exhausted and covered in sweat by the time Matt declares they’re finally done. It’s the middle of the night and Jack doesn’t even know left from right anymore.

Obviously, Rian bursts out of the room without a single word to Jack. It’s not like Jack hasn’t been expecting it, but it still makes him want to throw up.

“Do you need a ride?” asks Matt, placing a gentle hand on Jack’s shoulder and looking at him with concern.

“Actually, yeah. I could use a ride.”

Matt doesn’t really talk much in the car, seeing as Jack isn’t in the mood. Matt probably isn’t in the mood either; surprisingly, if you ignored Jack being 3 hours late, Matt was the weak link of the rehearsal, his vocals not quite living up to the expectations. “Are you okay, man?”

“No. I’m doing my damn best, but it’s not that great,” Jack answers, staring through the window at the lights turning into smudges of gold, red and neon.

“Fuck. Is it - are things with Alex alright?”

A little taken aback by Matt’s boldness, Jack carefully chooses his words before he answers. “Yeah. Everything is fine. It’s not Alex who’s the problem.”

“It’s Rian. I know,” Matt takes a sharp turn left and rubs his temple like he’s trying to get rid of sleepiness. “But did you consider that maybe, just maybe, _you_ are also the problem, Jack?”

Matt’s words keep ringing in Jack’s head when he climbs the stairs to his apartment, takes his clothes off, devours leftovers from last night, takes a quick shower and then brushes his teeth. When he’s finally done with all the menial tasks, he sits down on his bed, absolutely drained and empty, a feeling tearing him up from the inside and making his eyes well up slowly.

He’s done. He’s done with all of this.

He waits for the sweet release of tears when a text message arrives.

 **Alex:** goodnight, pumpkin

The photo that follows is a completely tasteless, blunt and _amazing_ nude; it’s Alex naked in front of his bathroom mirror, biting his lip, his cock out and Jack nearly chokes on his own spit.

All the warm, fun and bright memories of Alex flood back at once, giving Jack a much needed reminder of Alex’s presence in his world, and the tears finally find their release, leaving Jack curled up in a fetal position on top of the covers, sobbing himself to sleep.

Next evening is when all hell breaks loose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I am impatently waiting to hear your thoughts on this chapter and discuss!
> 
> Love <3


	9. Fear and loathing in Baltimore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw vomiting, panic attack, drugs, violence, blood

Next evening, when Jack hears the doorbell ring, he’s sure it’s Alex being an hour early. Jack is not even halfway through preparing a meal for them (he can’t believe he’s actually trying so hard), so he’s not too amused, but when he opens the door, he’s amused even less.

Much less. It’s Rian.

“Hey, Jack. Wanna let me in?”

The last thing Jack remembers in a normal way after letting Rian in is excusing himself to the bathroom and exchanging a couple of texts with Alex.

**Jack:** don’t come over tonight. Sorry

**Alex:** Why? What happened?

**Jack:** I’m dead

**Alex:** Tell me why, you butt

**Jack:** Rian

Alex doesn't reply to that, and everything that happens afterwards feels like Jack is watching a high school Powerpoint presentation about his own life. He sees Rian angry in the hallway, he sees Rian angry in the living room, screaming about the rehearsal and how Jack will ruin this, the performance, the band, for everyone. He sees Rian’s anger turn into disappointment in the bedroom when Jack wraps himself tighter in his dark green cardigan, clinging to thoughts of Alex, and tells Rian they’re not going to fuck (because despite all the negative emotions, or maybe because of them, Rian still wants to). Not tonight, and maybe they should just stop in general. Maybe that part of their relationship should be buried and stay buried forever. He sees Rian’s disappointment turn into disbelief and then into anger again.

_ Maybe you are also the problem _ , Matt told him. Maybe Matt was right. Maybe it’s Jack who ruined their simple friends with benefits arrangement. Maybe Rian is just doing what any other sane human being in this situation would do; it’s just Jack who can’t see it, because he went blind from staring at the sun for too long.

“You don’t know what you’re saying. You’re not thinking straight. Is that the Alex guy? Anyway,” Rian says, not giving Jack time to answer, faking one of his blinding smiles for Jack. “You won’t be happy about this tomorrow. So I’m just gonna pretend this conversation never took place, and I’ll see myself out.”

Rian does exactly that, and Jack stays in his mostly dark bedroom, trying to drown in his dark green cardigan, until he feels like he’s suffocating and needs to leave the house immediately.

*

The feeling comes when Jack is in the subway. It’s like everyone around him disappears, leaving behind a dark hole of solitude and a nagging pain in the back of his head. He stuffs his fists deep into his jacket pockets, closes his eyes hard and tries to wait it out, a doomsday clock countdown loud in his brain. 

The non-corporeal voice in the subway speakers keeps counting down the stops.  _ Not fast enough. It’s not fast enough. Maybe I should have taken a cab. _

In his mind it takes next to forever, but Jack makes it to his destined stop without dying somehow; it’s probably sheer willpower or some sort of a fucked up miracle. Breathing hurts a lot though, every inhale costing him a ton of energy and sending spikes down his spine. On wobbly legs, he makes it outside the subway station and gasps for the fresh (dirty) air like a fish out of water. As good as it feels to do that, it’s also way too much for his body to handle, causing him to projectile vomit on the sidewalk, narrowly omitting his shoes. A couple of people slow down and stare, somebody makes a rude comment, but he’s mostly just ignored, shelved as yet another drunk that you don’t really wanna mess up with or even approach.

With his stomach empty, a taste of acid in his mouth squeezing tears out of his eyes, his vision blurry at the edges, he slowly makes his way towards his destination. It takes at least fifteen minutes to walk there and Jack is not sure exactly how he makes it. He doesn't throw up anymore, but the pounding headache is in full force now and his body is shivering from head to toe.

It feels like Jack himself is not real anymore; or like he’s way too real to be able to handle it. He thinks actual death must hurt less than this.

He gets into the building because someone is going out just then. Jack grabs the door before it slams shut and climbs the stairs. He’s not even sure whether Alex is home; maybe he went somewhere after Jack turned him down in the evening. He has every right to do that. Maybe he’s out with Tay. Maybe he’s actually in, but  _ with _ Tay.

Before he spirals into fear and despair even more, just to add to the panic he’s already experiencing, he pulls out his phone and calls Alex. Luckily, the other man picks up immediately.

“Yeah?”

“I’m - I’m so - so sorry, ‘Lex. Please open up? I’m - I’m at your door.”

There’s silence on the other end as Alex hangs up, but Jack can quickly hear footsteps approaching and the door swings open in front of his face seconds later.

“What the f - Jack, what happened? What happened to you?”

He’s flooded with soft, diffused light from Alex’s small apartment. His lungs release a long-held, labored, painful breath and his knees give out the second he steps inside, his exhausted body sliding to the floor, and Alex is talking to him, or at him, the words bouncing off, one of Alex’s hands clasped on his shoulder and another touching his face.

At least he knows he’s safe now.

*

“I’m here now. It's all gonna be okay. You’ll be fine.”

The words feel meaningless as Alex keeps repeating them, pressing Jack’s shivering body against his chest, first on the floor by the door, then on his couch where as soon as he tries to switch their positions a little to get more comfortable, Jack clings to him so hard it probably leaves bruises, so Alex completely drops the idea.

“Just breathe. Breathe with me, okay? Slowly. Let’s count down from ten.” Alex is pretty sure that’s just something he picked up from Youtube or some TV show, but he’s willing to try anything, the desperation slowly starting to sink in since it doesn’t seem like Jack will calm down, like, ever. They do the countdown thing, Jack’s eyes are glassy but focused and his shoulders stop shaking, so that’s a plus. Alex smiles at him, uncertain, his heart bursting at the seams when a whole new emotion hits it.

Jack’s hands fall down Alex’s sides and he collapses with his head in Alex’s lap. Alex’s reality is kind of distorted when he keeps on caressing Jack’s hair like there’s nothing else in the whole wide world that matters.

To be honest, there kind of isn’t.

“I know something that will calm you down,” Alex says finally, after a couple minutes of listening to Jack’s ragged breathing. Gently, he moves Jack’s head so he can stand up (Jack doesn't make a fuss this time, so it's already a huge improvement) and goes to the bedroom to retrieve something he almost forgot he had.

“Tay left this behind some time ago.” Alex shows Jack a small plastic bag of weed and some rolling paper Tay and him only used a few times. Weed made Alex feel sleepy and hungry, so he never really enjoyed it; that’s why he kept it untouched for so long. Tonight, however, the perfect opportunity just presented itself. “Weed doesn’t expire, right?”

“Oh,” Jack says, something resembling a smile climbing onto his face. “ _ Oh _ . Now we’re talking, man.”

Jack sits up on the couch, making room for Alex who sets the supplies down on the coffee table.

“Do you even know how to roll a joint?” Jack asks, doubtful.

“I don’t always roll a joint, but when I do, it’s my ankle,” Alex jokes, making Jack giggle a bit.

“Oh my _God_. Seriously though?”

“Not really, I’m shit at it. You?”

“Yeah, I've watched Zack do it countless times before he went all health freak. Here, let me.” 

Jack tries, but it turns out his hands are still too shaky, so Alex pulls up a YouTube tutorial in the end, Jack laughing by his side and somehow they succeed, even if it takes way too long.

Time starts moving slower and slower as they sit on Alex’s carpet together, backs against the couch and their legs tangled, all the lights off, passing one joint back and forth, filling their lungs and heads with smoke.

Maybe Alex’s entire life could be like this. He doesn’t exactly know what  _ this _ is, but he knows he wants it. How does he get it?

It’s all quiet until Jack speaks up into the silence, his breath ticklish against Alex’s neck, his words unrushed. 

“I tried to tell him tonight.”

Alex waits for Jack to elaborate, not saying a word himself in fear of accidentally making Jack stop.

“I tried to tell him we’re over. That he’s not getting anything else from me ever again. Like, yeah, we can hang out and pretend to be friends and I can play in his band until it inevitably falls apart, but that’s it.” Jack passes the joint, the tip glowing in the dark room, so Alex takes a hit, but he’s more focused on trying to hold Jack’s hand with his other hand. “Do you know what his response was?”

Alex shakes his head.

Helplessly, Jack laughs. “That I probably don't know what I’m saying, so he’ll pretend this conversation never took place. And then he left.”

“But - but that’s still a lot, that you told him. Right? It’s not your fault that fucker didn’t listen. Doc Lewis would be so proud of you.”

Jack lets go of Alex’s hand only to place a palm on his thigh. “Are you proud of me?”

The way Jack asks the question, honest, raw and naive, pours over Alex like warm water. “You didn’t sleep with him, did you?”

“Fuck no. Like I said. I’m done with this.”

Everything Alex can do is deposit the rest of the joint in an ashtray and fully turn to Jack, looking for his eyes in the darkness. “I’m so proud of you, you won’t even believe.”

They start kissing, slowly, and Alex is one step closer to knowing what exactly he wants from life.

* 

Every day is different now, every night either good or bad and even though most things are still the same, there has been one crucial change that turned Jack’s world upside down.

He doesn’t care about Rian anymore.

He’s free.

*

It’s past 2 AM and Alex can’t sleep. 

His eyes don’t sting even a little and there’s nothing to do on the internet anymore, his right thumb numb from endless scrolling. He puts his phone away and lays back on the pillow, blinking at the shadows on the ceiling, incoherent thoughts coming and going in waves.

He could really do with turning on the nightlight, but he doesn’t want to disturb Jack. Jack is asleep, breathing deep and even, his entire body aligned towards Alex with complete and utter trust and zero inhibitions and Alex fails to understand  _ why _ . Jack unconsciously seeks physical contact while he sleeps, radiating warmth and peace, so different from the energy he exudes while he's awake. Alex slides deeper underneath the covers, turning his body towards Jack, trying not to wake him up but still somehow get closer to him.

He tries to comprehend this boy he suddenly finds himself involved with.

He observes. The curve of Jack's spine. He can perfectly recall the red marks on his back, left by Alex's nails (Jack told him later he doesn’t particularly like pain during sex, so Alex apologized, never did it again and they moved on). The lazy smile that creeps up on Jack's face when he opens his eyes after a good night's sleep, and finds Alex in his bed. How his silly, dirty jokes always have a pure, innocent quality to them. How Alex feels when the door closes behind Jack and how he feels when it opens to reveal him standing in the doorway.

Things with Jack are easy if Alex doesn’t think about it all too much. They text each other while they’re both working, keeping each other alive through difficult or boring days. They go out together, seeing movies or catching gigs or just hanging out with friends, they start watching three different shows on Netflix and throw out some of the crappy gifts Jack got from Rian. They put each other to bed most nights in a pretty spectacular fashion; Alex’s body is covered in bite marks that don’t even fade anymore before he receives new ones. There’s no judgement and absolutely no passive-aggressive behavior that drives Alex insane. Instead, it’s Jack and him communicating their needs in simple words, or no words at all.

It all works perfectly well, if only they ignore the obvious, glaring truth: they’re basically in an affair with each other now, and however happy they might be, it’s all built on a lie. That’s exactly what’s keeping Alex awake at 2 in the morning. He needs to talk with Tay so bad it’s killing him, but remembering Jack’s reaction after his attempt at talking to Rian a couple of nights ago is very discouraging. It’s like an organ transplant ready to be rejected.

Knowing he’s gonna have to bite the bullet sooner than later is really scary. Remembering how broken down Jack looked and the magnitude of feelings present ever since are even scarier; scarier than Alex likes to admit.

Still, Alex would choose all of this in a heartbeat, in a parallel world where his relationship with Taylor never existed.

Not able to resist the temptation any longer, Alex fully cuddles into Jack’s chest, wrapping his arms around Jack’s middle. Jack stirs, but Alex thinks he stays asleep. That is until he can feel Jack kiss his forehead gently and slowly drag his fingers through Alex’s hair.

“Go to sleep, you waffle,” Jack mumbles against Alex’s head somewhere.

Alex doesn't even take time to dwell on how ridiculous of an insult that is. He finds Jack’s heartbeat, closes his eyes and battles another wave of disturbing thoughts.

*

**Tay:** I still love you, God do I still love you, even though these days I feel like I hardly even fucking know you anymore, but I still want to sit in my car with you and tell you how lovely you are and how my heart gets excited when I hear your voice. I want to hold your hand and kiss your lips and I just want to do everything with you. I want to call you when I’m crying or received good news, not just when I feel bored or alone. I love you, I fucking love you and it fucking kills me that I might never have you back. How am I supposed to be okay with all this? All I can think of is how happy and complete we were together and why the hell we felt that way if we were not meant to be? I fucking love you still, still, after all these years when I close my eyes it’s you, and my favorite song is your laughter, and my favorite color is the color of your eyes and it somehow still sits in the background of my dreams, because I fucking love you and every feeling I have for him is just a hollowed shell of the feeling I had, and still have, for you

*

Jack is telling himself he’s not nervous about the concert. That he doesn’t care. That he’s ready to see Rian again and that everything will be fine, absolutely nothing will go wrong and then maybe he’ll consider telling Rian he’s quitting the band after that last show. The lie isn’t really working, but it’s okay, considering. 

He makes it to Rian’s and everything seems to be normal. They pack their stuff into a van and get going, Jack sticking to the safety of Matt and Zack, keeping up silly banter, feeling like he might actually be able to do this without losing his mind. 

A text from Alex makes him feel even better.

**Alex:** I’m already there. Waiting for you!

**Jack:** we’re on the way!

And yeah, maybe it’s selfish and crappy, but as soon as Jack sets his stuff up onstage and checks if his guitar is tuned and working, he declares his contribution to soundcheck sufficient. It’s not because he's sure everything will sound alright, it’s because he sees Alex picking up a beer by the bar across the floor, and Alex notices him and gives him a little salute.

He is wearing a red bandana on his head and he looks fucking hot as fuck.

They meet halfway, among the people slowly gathering to see the show. Jack is given a slap on the ass and a kiss on the cheek. “Hello, mister rockstar man. Hope you’re feeling as good as you look?”

The only thing that feels right to do is smile, stare at Alex and hook fingers into his belt loops. Alex is wearing some clothes that Jack is convinced are new, like a white oversize t-shirt with rips all over and black pants that shine like fake leather. “Are you kidding me? You look like you should fucking replace Matt as our vocalist.”  
  
"Better not tell Matt that," Alex grins, getting closer and closer to Jack every second, their chemistry working, as always, without fault, but Alex must see something out of the corner of his eye that washes the smile right off his face and makes him step aside.

“Fuck, I nearly forgot he was going to be here.”

Jack follows Alex’s gaze to see Rian barging through the crowd straight to them, looking as pissed off as he’s been acting lately, and then a lot of things happen very quickly.

“What the fuck, Jack? How about you save the PDA for after we make sure our gear is in order? You’re being a fucking asshole. “

“Rian, take it easy, I was just-" Jack wants to say  _ going back to the stage, I only wanted to say hi _ , which would be a lie, but also whatever, but Rian doesn't really let him speak.

“Oh shut up, Jack. If anything goes wrong, it’s on you.” Rian gets right in Jack’s face and maybe he’s shorter than him, but he’s also much stronger and if Rian were to resort to physical violence, Jack won't stand a chance. It’s all too sudden for him to be scared though; Zack and Matt notice the commotion and rush to Jack and Rian, but nobody expects the unexpected; Alex comes from the left field, pushes Rian backwards, away from Jack, and lands a punch to Rian’s jaw.

Their lives are put in slow motion for a second. The music keeps roaring; they’re playing  _ Chocolate _ by The 1975. Rian stumbles back, touching his face, shocked and absolutely appalled, but probably not very injured. Alex holds his balled fist against his chest like it hurts, his expression completely manic, eyes wide. 

Jack is pretty sure never before has Alex looked so beautiful.

When it all sinks in, Rian lets out a weird noise, something like a groan and a bitter laugh combined, shouts, “You fucker!” and launches forward, right at Alex. Reflexively, Jack makes a move too; he wants to stop Rian, maybe punch him as well, wants to keep Alex safe from harm and he just wants to fucking _go_ , but Zack wraps his arms of steel around Jack's middle and holds him firmly in place.

Before Matt manages to pull Rian back, Jack watches in horror as Rian’s fist meets Alex’s face. Alex manages to stay standing, stumbling back, people moving away in fear of getting hit by accident, but some are probably living for it. Someone pulls out a phone and starts recording, but there’s nothing to see anymore, Zack and Matt now both dragging Rian away, Alex disappearing in the crowd and Jack can either go after Rian and probably don't get any payback because the other guys won’t let him, or follow Alex to wherever he went and make sure he’s alright.

With laughter, happiness and extreme gratitude bubbling up in his chest for reasons he can’t quite understand, Jack chooses to follow Alex.

*

“Oh my God, Alex.” Jack barges into the bathroom, outright screaming, slamming the door behind himself and making way to where Alex is looking at his fucked up face in the smudged mirror, running his tongue over his teeth just to make sure they’re all still in the right place. 

Without any hesitation, Jack makes to grab Alex by the back of his neck like he always does, pulling him in for a very non-gentle kiss, ignoring the blood draining out of Alex’s cut mouth down his chin, ignoring the moans of pain that Alex can’t really help. The kiss is hurting his teeth and lips, but still manages to make him feel elated. Jack seems to reflect after a couple of seconds, pulling away and dragging Alex into a firm hug instead, holding him close and tight like their lives depend on it, like it’s their first or last time. “Oh my  _ fucking _ God, Alex,” he repeats, stepping back, his lips and chin now decorated in Alex’s blood, and Jack softly touches Alex’s face right where Rian punched it. “Are you alright? You’re - you’re so - you’re so fucking  _ amazing _ . I can’t believe you’ve done this. Fuck. Oh my God. How you just - went in and punched him? Knowing he will punch back? And - why did you even  _ do that _ , ‘Lex? Was that because he - oh my God.”

This is all a lot to take in, maybe a little too much. Seeing Rian’s stupid, smug face and hearing the tone of voice in which he spoke to Jack, remembering how broken down Jack was that night when Rian came to talk to him, how Rian refused to acknowledge Jack’s attempt to end their relationship; all those things combined convinced Alex that Rian deserved that punch and more.

Alex hasn’t punched anyone since primary school.

There’s nothing to regret. Alex keeps looking at Jack, who’s full of uncontained joy, excited and starry-eyed like he just saw Alex for the first time in his life. Alex wants to  _ be _ with him, his body yearns for it but the timing is so bad; he attempts a smile and the cut on his lower lip opens again, he can feel it and Jack can see it. Quickly, Jack retrieves some paper towels from the dispenser, smushes them together into a ball and pours water all over it. After that, he gently wipes the blood from Alex’s face.

“Here. Hold this against the cut. And don’t try to speak. Or smile. Or kiss me. Although I’d love that. But I’ll survive.” Jack presses the wet towels into Alex’s hands. “I - thank you? I don’t know what else to tell you. I - can I show you how grateful I am after the show is over? I think we go onstage in three minutes. Oh my God, Rian is going to kill me,” he says, grinning, reaching for Alex’s hand. “Come on. I want you to watch the entire thing from the front fucking row. I’m so fucking proud of you.”

They walk back out into the club holding hands.

Before Jack goes onstage, Alex tries to clean the traces of blood from his face, but doesn’t do a very good job of it.

*

It hits Jack in the stupidest moment possible. 

He’s at work, overseeing a new employee in training, and he’s thinking about Alex's mischievous smile, about how his face looked seconds after he punched Rian, about how they didn't get more than two blinks of sleep that night because they were too busy celebrating, and then he realizes the new employee has been doing the flyers display all wrong for the last ten minutes.

The realization of his feelings almost sweeps Jack off his feet.  
  
_ Shit, I'm in love with him. _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was SO much fun to write. I hope you enjoyed it at least half as much as I did.
> 
> Please leave your thoughts with me! Let's talk!


	10. ...and that makes me a liar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My dudes, I made a playlist containing all the songs mentioned in the story, everything that inspired or accompanied me as I was writing. So listen along! [Spotify version](https://open.spotify.com/user/1168369167/playlist/4q8Vz86YcXLHmz0BUdo6kG) // [Youtube version with some extras](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLd8KGu5h5ZFPDwGLqc8-Y4T-syIl21RrO)

**Rian:** we need to talk, man. can we do tomorrow? starbucks on light st? you know the one

**Jack:** I can be there 1pm or 10pm

**Rian:** let’s do 1pm

*

Jack is late. It’s 1:13 and he’s still not there yet, knowing he has to be at work by 2:30 anyway and trying to minimize the time he has to spend with Rian. His palms are covered in cold sweat; he’s terrified trying to come up with reasons why Rian may want to talk.

As lovely as it would be to think Rian has no power over Jack anymore, Jack’s entire being is telling him otherwise.

_ It’s alright. Whatever he wants to tell me, I will tell him it’s over. Again. Maybe this time it will get to his head for real. _

In need of emotional support and because he’s waiting for the light to turn green anyway, Jack reaches for his phone and opens a text from Alex that he got five minutes ago. It’s just a meme, but it makes him smile, so he texts back three crying laughing emojis and then, timidly, a pink heart emoji with a ribbon.

It’s his favorite one.

Jack makes it to Starbucks at 1:22. Rian is waiting, a glass of his signature cold brew in front of him, tapping away on his phone. When he raises his head to greet Jack, he’s smiling a genuine smile.

“Look, Jack, before you say anything,” Rian starts before Jack even sits down. “I’m - I was such a jerk to you, and I’m so sorry. I have no idea how to make it up to you, so I just figured - no, it’s not that. I apologize, okay?”

“For what?” Jack asks, feeling brave all of a sudden. “You know what, I’m going to order myself some coffee and then you can tell me about all the things you’re sorry for.”

He goes to the counter, with no patience for Rian and his apologies in an hour of need, he orders himself the biggest, sweetest latte Starbucks has in the menu and only then joins Rian by the table. “So?”

“I’m sorry for treating you like shit. For being mad at you because you were late for rehearsal, for being mad at you at the gig, for - I’m sorry for hitting Alex back when I should’ve been a bigger person. I’m sorry, Jack. But that’s not really why I wanted to talk to you.”

“No?” Sweat starts rolling down Jack’s back underneath his shirt. He scoops up some whipped cream from the top of his coffee just so he doesn’t have to look at Rian yet. Nothing about this is okay. Rian used to be the sun Jack’s world revolved around, and now he’s just this sad, black hole Jack lives on the edge of.

“No. I broke up with Cass.”

“You - excuse me?” Jack holds onto the cup so tight his hands start burning. He’s not letting himself have a panic attack, not here, not now, not in front of Rian.

Did Rian really just say what Jack thinks he said?

“I broke up with her. I cheated on her, I kept lying to her and it was unfair, she deserves someone good who will love her - more. In a different way.”

“So you’re just not the guy for the job?”

“No. I want something else,” Rian says, grinning still, which makes Jack nothing but suspicious. “It took some time to understand that, and I know I fucked up, I fucked up multiple times and I’m sorry, and it’s perhaps stupid of me to expect you to go with this. But I have to try, alright?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I - look, I’ve seen you with the Alex guy. I’ve seen you so - happy, I guess? I’ve seen all the Instagram posts and all the Snaps of the two of you together, having fun, and it annoyed me so much because I’ve realized I want that. I want you, Jack. I belong with you. So, I’d be more than overjoyed if you could forgive me and give me a shot, man. I won’t blow it this time.” Rian breathes out and wipes his forehead like he’s nervous sweating too. He stares at Jack with his brown eyes, pleading.

That’s when Jack’s phone chimes and a brief look is enough for Jack to see that Alex texted him back, nothing but a shiny heart emoji.

Jack has this feeling again, like he’s watching himself from above as a bystander. He keeps holding the coffee cup, the only anchor to reality right now, and words completely fail him.

*

Alex has been staring at the last text from Taylor for three days now, mulling it over and over again his head, analyzing every word, his heart growing warm with it and then cold again. He can’t figure out, to save his life, which parts of it are genuine and which are just there to get Alex’s attention and melt his resolve.

He’s grown so distrustful he pokes everything in life with a stick before approaching it.

It’s all coming to him slowly. The poison eating Taylor’s soul, turning her into his wax figure of a person she used to be, all of the bitterness seeping into Alex’s life and making it sour and spicy and sometimes sweet, but never just _good_. Her affection - always counterfeit, her attention - always second-rate. He put up with it for so long because he didn’t think he could ever find anything better, didn’t think he _deserved_ anything better. Having no self-esteem does weird things to you. 

He’s sitting on his sofa, halfway through putting on shoes before leaving for work, reading through the text yet again.

His life is different now. Now he’s got something real. He touches his lower lip, the cut still painful, not nearly healed yet, but it still makes Alex smile. Now he’s got Jack and he’s willing not only to punch an angry drummer for him, but he’s ready to do so, so much more. What is this feeling he’s feeling? Alex is nearly ready to name it; it’s fiery, intense, exciting and just so much fun, and he’s willing to put his current life on the line just to take a chance on it.

_ It’s not like my current life is worth that much anyway _ , Alex thinks before shooting Taylor a message after weeks upon weeks of radio silence.

**Alex:** Meet me in front of my building tonight? 11 pm.

*

They’re sitting in Taylor’s car; Alex, Taylor and the ghost of their former love, sometimes floating between them, sometimes taking a break to rest on Alex’s shoulder, turning his entire body freezing cold.

Taylor isn’t crying. Alex kind of wishes she was, because maybe then it would be easier for him to deal with the situation. She’s silent, eyes cast downwards when Alex tells her it’s over, her face goes slightly pale and her shoulders stiff, like she’s just uncomfortable to be here.

She is not shocked, though. Not even a little.

“Why?” she asks, the most emotionless tone Alex has ever heard, and he feels dumb remembering how he used to think her voice was pure music.

_ Because you hurt me too much for too long. Because I wasn’t myself around you anymore, just a version of myself I invented for your sake. Because Jack. Because Jack is not ashamed to be in public with me. Because he doesn’t treat me like a secret to be ashamed of. Because we need each other and make each other’s lives better, easier, brighter, happier. Because -  _

“Because I love him.”

Taylor’s mouth forms an “o” shape. He said it. He finally said it and the world didn’t bend or break; the words are out there and he’s still sure that they’re true. Alex is holding back a grin of joy and relief, but everything inside of him is singing loudly. 

He waits for Taylor to speak, because it feels like the right thing to do. Minutes fly by before she dares to look at Alex’s face and her eyes fleet over his features like she’s searching for something, like she’s trying to convince herself that Alex is lying to her. There’s no lie to be found though, because Alex isn’t lying. He’s never told a lie in his entire life.

Okay, that’s not true.

When Taylor finally says something, her voice is quiet and subdued. “I’m sorry I could never be - whatever it is that you wanted, Alex. I’m so sorry.”

_ People grow up, grow apart and move on _ , Alex’s mom once told him when he asked what it means that his brother is actually his step brother. She explained everything about falling in love, getting married, falling out of love, divorce and then falling in love again, and then again, and then again. At that point the concept didn’t sit well with Alex, a bright-eyed kid who promised his mom that when he finds a girlfriend, they will be together forever.

She smiled in a bittersweet way then, patting little Alex on the shoulder.  _ Of course, darling _ .

Tay was supposed to be the one, and Alex’s mom never liked her anyway. He wonders if she’ll like Jack.

“I’m not sorry. It all turned out well in the end, didn’t it?”

Taylor doesn’t reply.

“I was in love with you for a very long time, you know?” The fact that Taylor remains quiet hits Alex like a bullet in the heart. But that’s good; he is even more sure now. “You were my entire world. I would have done anything, everything, to make you happy. And I did. I just never made you happy for some reason. I was not the one.”

“Alex-” she finally says, reaching out to place her hand on top of Alex’s, but Alex moves away. “I was - I was so happy with you. I just never knew before.”

It’s too late. They both know it’s too late. The ghost of their former love sits on Taylor’s shoulder and sends Alex one last look before fading into nothingness.

“I’m going to go now. Maybe - maybe we can be friends again someday. But not very soon, I guess. Take care, Tay.” It’s time for Alex to go.

Alex doesn’t even watch her drive away. He enters his building without looking back, lets the door slam behind him and climbs the stairs without missing a beat. Only when he’s in his apartment he allows himself to breathe out and sit down on the couch where he spends the next 15 minutes in an absolutely empty, thoughtless haze, his emotions so mixed he doesn’t feel a single one, not really.

How did such a big thing end in such a small way?

*

“I thought we’ve established our hatred for phone calls?” Alex asks after picking up the call from Jack. Jack is somewhere loud, probably outside just going back from work after one or two extra hours. It’s midnight and Alex still hasn’t moved from the couch.

“We have, but. I just - it’s the sort of thing I need to tell you, I guess? Just texting it would seem unfair.”

“Uh oh. What’s up then?” Alex pulls his legs up onto the couch to curl himself into a ball, as if that might lessen the blow of what Jack’s about to say.

It doesn’t.

“I met up with Rian before work,” Jack says conversationally. “He broke up with Cass.”

“Oh, he did?” Alex asks, trying to keep his voice neutral, wondering if that’s how Tay felt when Alex told her it’s over. No, it’s probably more like how Alex felt when Tay told him she’s marrying Jordan.

“Yeah. Apparently she deserves better, and, listen here, apparently he got jealous seeing you and me together and he realized how he wants to be with me.” 

Jack pauses. Oh, Alex has to say something now. Right. “Oh,” is everything Alex can manage. Of course Rian would do exactly that. The man could play a game way better than Alex could ever dream of.

“Insane, right? Like, what the hell is he thinking? Jesus.” 

“Isn’t that exactly what you always wanted though? I mean. You’ve been waiting for this for so long.” Alex isn’t sure why he’s doing this, why he’s playing devil’s advocate, but it just feels like the  _ right _ thing to do. It’s right by Jack. It hurts; it hurts as if he stabbed himself in the back and now he’s twisting the knife with his own hands.

He is sabotaging himself.

Jack takes a while too long to respond. The knife in Alex’s back keeps turning slowly. “No, I - yes, I have, but - it was before - I -”

“Listen, Jack, you don’t have to - do anything for my sake. Or - Fuck. What do I even say to you? I don’t know.” Alex’s thoughts are in a jumble and it’s absolute hell trying to form a coherent sentence right now.

“What do you - Alex, please - why are you even  _ saying _ all of this? What are we doing, man?”

Alex doesn't know. Maybe it’s all because things were kind of too good to be true, so it was high time for something to go wrong. Now that something did go wrong, Alex is disappointed, yes. Hurt, of course. Surprised that Rian beat him to the punch again? No. As absurd and illogical as it would be for Jack to choose Rian, feelings have never been logical anyway, right? And Alex never told Jack about his feelings for him.

_ Always a few minutes late for everything, aren’t you, Alex? _

“This isn’t about me now. It’s about you, you and Rian. Okay?”

“No, not okay,” Jack says, sounding a little short of breath. “Nothing is about me and Rian, you’d know if you just fucking listened to me!”

“I’m listening.” Alex shuts up. He wraps an arm around both his knees to hold himself together.

Jack, offered space to talk freely, doesn’t utter a word for a long while. “I’m - I’m a fucking mess. And I’m exhausted. I’m so sorry.” Alex can hear the subway doors beeping as they’re closing where Jack is. 

“Don’t apologize, and - sleep on it, okay?”

“Can I come to yours now? Maybe? Would that help?” Jack asks, as if he’s the one who should be asking any questions now.

Alex wants nothing but have Jack come over so they can either fuck or fall asleep watching TV, but in any case just forget about making decisions and having feelings and all the bullshit that comes along with being human.

“I think you need to be alone now.”

“I don’t,” Jack says, but without conviction.

“You do. This is something you need to process yourself, you know? I don’t want to influence your decision.”

“You wouldn’t influence my decision.”  _ It’s the most beautiful lie Jack has ever told. _

“Oh, I would. Believe me. I would influence your decision so hard,” Alex replies suggestively, glad to hear Jack laugh a little.

“Okay, I’m - I’m going to sleep on it, then, if you insist, even though I - I know what I want, Alex, okay? See you in group on Friday? We need to tell everyone how you punched Rian, they’re going to love that story.”

With the metaphorical knife still sticking out of his back, Alex struggles to smile before realizing Jack can’t see him anyway. “See you Friday then.”

After they hang up, Alex realizes he never told Jack that he broke up with Taylor for good.

_ Well, too late for that now. _

*

Maybe someday someone will write poetry about them. Change their names so that they don’t sound ordinary. Make it seem like the thing they had was huge and important, not a tiny blip on the universe’s radar.

Maybe someone will write some crap like,  _ they were star-crossed lovers, made for each other, but their destiny was never fulfilled. They never belonged to each other, because life kept putting more and more obstacles in their way. They could never be truly happy, because their past was full of mistakes. _

They could never be happy, because they were both  _ fucking stupid _ .

Alex can’t sleep again.

*

It’s been a long time since group therapy sessions made Jack nervous, but this one does (everything does lately, but that’s beside the point). This time it’s most likely because Alex is three minutes late already. Everyone is already seated, so Jack saved him a seat on his right, naively hoping Alex will show up.

He does. He’s only five minutes late in the end, walking in when Charelle’s talking, a hand pressed against his chest like he ran here.

Jack and Alex acknowledge each other with a slight nod and an even slighter smile before Alex sits down.

“And what happened to  _ you _ ?” asks Millie, in her unique suburban-mom-concerned-for-a-child’s-well-being way.

Alex frowns before remembering his split lip that still hasn’t healed, and a bruise that’s not violently purple anymore, but not faded either. “It’s - it’s a long story. I’ll tell you guys when it’s my turn.”

They go back to Charelle, who’s contemplating leaving the group because she no longer fits the profile. It’s all business as usual as they make their way around the circle. Jack’s breathing. Everything is fine.

“Hey Doc?” Alex raises a hand as soon as Allie is done talking. “Can we skip the line please? I have something important to say and if I wait any longer, I think I will literally die here.”

Alex’s statement raises some eyebrows, including Jack’s. What the hell does Alex want to say? Punching Rian doesn’t seem important enough to skip the line for and fear strikes into Jack’s heart when he realizes; maybe Alex wants to tell the group about Rian breaking up with Cass. Jack really hopes he doesn’t. There’s a nervous undertone to Alex’s voice and Jack does basically the only thing he is capable of doing right now to calm Alex down; he places a reassuring hand on top of Alex’s bouncing knee. 

Alex doesn’t shake the hand off. That’s good. They haven’t talked since the entire Rian thing and Jack isn’t sure whether he should have waited that long. He wants to tell Alex today, after the session, and he hopes he didn’t fuck up. The anxiety rises within him, threatening to turn into panic.

Losing Alex now seems like an actual Doomsday scenario. Like the worst possible timeline.

“Does anyone have anything against letting Alex speak now? We will return to the standard queue later.”

People shake their heads, some of them probably just indifferent to anything that happens, but the rest interested, in a slightly unhealthy way, in this unusual display of emotions they’re witnessing. Alex takes a deep breath and straightens himself in his chair. Jack keeps his hand on the other man’s knee, firmly.

“I had this girlfriend in high school, even before Tay. Her name was Lisa, and she was sort of my first “serious” relationship,” Alex draws quotation marks in the air with his fingers. “However serious a high school relationship can be. Anyway, I think I was never… fair with her, let’s say. She was very committed and serious about us and I kept making out with other people just because there was a game of Spin the Bottle, or because I was drunk, or because they wanted to kiss me, or… you get what I mean, right? She wanted us to be a real couple, and I thought I was way too young for that, I just wanted to go out and try everything that was out there. I guess it all happened because she was more into me than I was into her, but - take it easy, Esme, I’m trying to make a point here, goddamnit,” Alex says seeing as Esme is trying to interrupt him. “Anyway, if you want to know, she’s happily married now, works as an event planner or whatever, has two cute dogs and basically she’s very happy, I follow her on Instagram. My point is, for a very long time now, whenever I can’t sleep at night I’m thinking, what if everything that’s happened to me with Taylor is simply karma coming back for what I did to Lisa? I was basically Lisa’s Taylor. I was her Bad Guy - for three or four months, but still. Maybe that’s what I  _ deserve _ .”

“Alex, this is not the way the universe works,” says Esme, finally able to successfully interrupt Alex.

Jack is not scared anymore; he’s fucking confused.

“I know, but not everything our brains tell us is rational, yeah? I can’t help that I think like that sometimes. What I’m trying to say is, I don’t want to be that person anymore. I don’t want to be the Alex that was with Lisa or with Taylor, I’m sick of pretending, sick of lies and half-truths. I don’t want any of this anymore. I want to be happy.” Pure, raw honesty rings in Alex’s voice as he opens his arms wide, gesturing to the group. “I want to be in love with someone who loves me, someone who is honest, I want to be faithful and I want to be loyal and I want all of this to be simple, to be  _ organic _ . So, I broke up with Tay two days ago.” Alex makes a dramatic pause. 

Li says “Oh!” and covers her mouth. Charelle starts clapping and Tom extends a hand for a high five. Alex leaves him hanging. Jack’s heart drops somewhere down to his ankles; two days ago? And Alex never told him?

Then he remembers.  _ Oh. The Rian thing. Right. _

“That’s wonderful, Alex. Congratulations,” says Doc Lewis and he’s smiling, no, beaming almost, with pride. “That’s a huge thing to do, a very big step forward.”

“Thanks, but I’m not done. That’s totally not the point I’m trying to make,” words keep pouring out of Alex like he’s a broken tap. “I never imagined there was a better feeling to what I felt with Tay, all the way back when we were - okay, I guess. I never imagined there existed love without constant pain and disappointment, and I know some of you don’t believe that either, but -” At the exact moment when Jack’s thinking that Alex is not making any sense anymore, that he’s just talking for the sake of talking, Alex turns his body fully towards Jack and takes the hand that Jack put on his knee into both of his. Jack is not ready for this. His heart is on the floor now, rolling away screaming when Alex looks right into his eyes. “I met someone who accepts the version of me without any lies on top. Just me. I still can’t believe it’s true. I - Jack, I don’t know if you still want me, hell, I don’t know if you ever wanted me as someone more than - whoever we were to each other, but I need you to know this. Maybe you’re with Rian already, because I’ve been acting like a fucking idiot, but here goes nothing. I love you,” Alex’s voice isn’t shaky anymore and he’s still looking into Jack’s eyes unwaveringly. He’s being stupidly brave and stupid, just stupid, and Jack has to blink away through sudden tears and swallow through a lump in his throat. “I need you to know that you make me the person I want to be, you make me happy like I never was before, and I love you. I will take a punch from Rian any day if that’s what you need. I - I guess it’s your move now. I’ll stop talking. Sorry everyone.” 

Alex lets go of Jack’s hand and faces the circle again. Jack allows himself to look at the others; Esme is weeping openly, Adam handing her a tissue. Charelle is fist-pumping the air for some reason, Doc Lewis’ clipboard is on the floor, Doc staring at Jack and Alex with his mouth slightly ajar.

Jack’s face is burning. He’s either going to throw up or burst into tears.

“Can I see you outside for a second, Alex? Thanks,” he stutters out, standing up and quickly making his way out of the room. Nobody comments; he doesn’t look back, but he can hear noises and then the door closing, so he figures Alex is following him.

He reaches the staircase where Alex once guided him through a panic attack and stops by the window. Alex joins him seconds later, his eyes two question marks, but he’s smiling, like he’s hopeful or maybe just relieved he finally said what he wanted to say.

Jack wonders how it feels like. He doesn’t want to wonder for too long anymore.

“Come here. Before I say anything, I need to-” Jack pulls Alex in by the lapels of his shirt and Alex falls into him willingly, opening his mouth under Jack’s kiss and sighing in contentment. They’ve both missed it, even if it’s only been a couple of days. Jack wishes he could tell Alex just like that, with his body, without actually  _ telling _ him. There is no way to do that properly though, so Jack just lets them have this moment, the quiet unity of souls, their hands searching for each other until they’re clasped together.

“First of all, what the hell was that out there? You’re absolutely mental, you,” Jack tells Alex with a smile, watching Alex’s upper lip curl mischievously. “Second of all, no more punching Rian, okay? He’s gone from my life now, gone from  _ our _ life now. I’m done with him, like I told you before, and nothing he says or does can change it. Because -” Jack pauses, knowing this is important, letting the gravity of the moment sink in. Maybe the circumstances are not ideal. There should be flowers and a good bottle of wine. Maybe they should be in a jacuzzi on the top floor of Four Seasons. Maybe Jack should be wearing a suit - well, not if they went with the jacuzzi scenario, but still, a suit would feel appropriate. But hell, if they waited for the circumstances to be ideal, they would’ve never made it here in the first place. “I love you too, very much so, and I want you, any way you might want me.”

“You do?”

“Yes. Of course I do, you stupid piece of cheese. No cheating, no lying, no secrets, just - just whatever we did until now. Seemed to work, right? Should work even better without Rian and Tay in the mix.”

“So you’re done with Rian? For good?” Alex, miraculously, is still a little unsure.

“For good. Cross my heart. I even quit the band, we sucked anyway, so. I can always join another one.”

“Oh my God.” Alex rests his head on Jack’s chest, like all the emotions exhausted him. “You can’t even imagine how happy I am right now.”

“I’m pretty sure I can,” Jack replies, smiling into Alex’s soft hair. “Do you maybe wanna ditch these guys and go celebrate? Because I feel like I really want to give my new boyfriend a mind-blowing blowjob. Just to start us off well.”

“You talk the talk,” Alex mumbles.

“Yeah, and I walk the walk too.”

“You kind of do,” Alex agrees with a slight smile. “We never told the group about punching Rian though. They would love that story.”

“Next time.” Jack’s already pulling Alex towards the nearby bathroom.

“Jack, what are we - what are we doing here?”

“I don’t think I can wait until home before devastating your personal space.” Jack kicks the door shut and kisses Alex with skyrocketing enthusiasm, making him completely breathless, and Alex knows perfectly well where this is going, so he willingly lets it happen.

He leans hard against the wall for support when Jack drops to his knees, starting to undo Alex’s zipper. “Jesus Christ, you’re greedy, aren’t you.”

“Mhmm. That’s because you’re so hot.”

“Am I?”

“Way too hot.” It’s the last thing Jack says before his tongue is otherwise busy. Alex threads his hair through Jack’s hair, shutting off everything but the feeling of Jack’s mouth stretching over his cock. Jack is a very enthusiastic blowjob giver, very well-versed in the art, and has already taught Alex a few cool tricks.

This one is probably all about making Alex come as quick and as spectacularly as possible. The thrill of doing it in a public place is just an extra factor, rapidly turning Alex’s knees soft and his cock just the opposite. He’s biting his lips hard to keep all the sounds in, but completely loses his composure when Jack starts playing with his balls. 

The whine that escapes him makes Jack pulls away and raise his eyebrows. “Shut up, Alex, we’re in a public bathroom,” he quips sarcastically before going back to work.

Jack succeeds in making him come fast; Alex can't help but groan again, high on life and his own happiness, his body feeling loved and grateful.

Jack looks up at Alex, still on his knees and everything but innocent, but his eyes shine like they contain all the wonders of the universe, so Alex drops to the floor too, awkwardly trying to sit down, forgetting how they’re actually in a bathroom and everything about this is gross, just really needing to kiss Jack right now. “You’re the best fucking thing that has ever happened to me.” 

*

It feels weird, good weird, to be holding Jack’s hand on a bus stop bench when they’re not even waiting for a bus, just enjoying donuts and coffee Li and Charelle brought them after the session has ended. It’s a  déjà  vu because Alex remembers holding Jack’s hand on another bus stop after they first went out for drinks together, when he was shitfaced drunk, very inappropriate and Jack, somehow, kept his cool through the entire night.

They are not in a hurry to get anywhere. Alex just takes it easy and lets the time pass, knowing that they will get plenty more time to waste together.

“Should we go?” Jack asks, tossing his empty paper cup and some napkins into a trashcan when he sees a bus approaching.

“Not yet. We’ll go on the next one, alright?” Alex lets his head rest on Jack’s shoulder and closes his eyes for a second. Jack rests his head against Alex’s. Maybe they were never made for perfect harmony, but whatever, fuck that. Alex feels at peace as they let another bus roar past them.

They’re both slightly startled when someone stands behind their bench and touches their shoulders. It’s Doc Lewis, leaving the building and heading towards his car.

“Here you are, boys. I just wanted to ask if you’ll be coming back next week?”

Unsure, Alex looks to Jack, who shrugs. “I mean, we never told them about your fight with Rian…”

“You were in a fight with Rian?”

“Look, Doc, it wasn’t my brightest hour.”

“I think it was,” Jack grins, squeezing Alex’s hand. “I think we should keep coming to group. At least for a while? I know I want to.”

“Fine by me. See you next week then, Doc.”

Doc Lewis smiles, patting their shoulders once again. “See you next week! I’m very happy for the two of you. You did good, boys,” he says, nodding his head with a mysterious look in his eyes before he leaves.   
  
_ We did good _ , Alex thinks. There’s headlights of another bus approaching in the distance, making their way through the thickening darkness, and Alex is finally ready to go home. “We did good, Jack.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end! I really hope you liked it.
> 
> Thank you Wednesday for all the fanart, live reactions, for being a dear friend and my biggest cheerleader. 
> 
> Thank you, reader, if you've been with this story till the end! Please let me know your thoughts and feelings, your favorite moments and lines! 
> 
> I love you all, you guys have been a wonderful bunch. Until next time!

**Author's Note:**

> forever yours at samrull.tumblr.com


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